Human Dreamcatcher
by Lavenderangel
Summary: Clana (Clark/Lana) post-Fever. Is Clark *really* all right? To be updated soon.
1. Prologue

Title: Unsure  
Prologue  
Author: Lala  
Rating: PG  
Spoilers: Fever  
Pairing: Clana  
Summary: Clark recovered from the strange sickness physically, but mentally is another story altogether.  
  
School seemed to drag by. The seconds seemed like minutes, and the minutes seemed like hours. His eyelids felt like lead and he didn't hear a word his teachers said.  
  
By the time lunch rolled around, Clark Kent was beyond exhaustion.  
  
"Hey," he mumbled, sitting down next to Chloe.  
  
"Hi, Clark," Chloe said, smiling at him. She took in his expression, and concern shown in her eyes. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah," Clark said through a yawn, "just tired."  
  
"Oh," Chloe said, and looked down.  
  
Silence fell between them, and Clark sighed, leaning his head on his hand, eyes closing. He wanted to sleep so badly…  
  
The noises of the cafeteria began to fade away as his brain gave into the exhaustion it had been feeling all morning. Clark's breathing lengthened, and he let his head rest completely on the table top, having completely forgotten Chloe. He was just so tired…  
  
"Clark? You okay?" Someone was talking to him. A soft hand touched his shoulder, gently shaking him. "Clark?"  
  
Slowly, almost painfully, he opened his eyes and sat up. He turned to see Lana standing over him, her hand still resting on his shoulder.  
  
"Hey," he said, giving Lana a sleepy grin and yawning widely.  
  
Lana took the seat on the other side of Clark. Chloe watched them silently, wishing Clark had smiled sleepily at her, instead of Lana.  
  
"Are you okay?" Lana asked again, opening a can of soda. "You seem… really tired."  
  
"I'm fine," Clark said, only now remembering his own lunch. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I've got about three essays to do by next week, but otherwise I'm fine," Lana said, smiling. She turned to Chloe, and soon the two were in a semi-tense conversation about Physics.  
  
Clark was half asleep a few moments later, the girl's voices being a sort of hum in the back of his mind. The shrill ringing of the bell made him jump, and only his quick reflexes kept him from toppling over backwards.  
  
"Are you all right?" Chloe asked, touching Clark's arm.  
  
"Fine," he said, getting up and saying his goodbyes to the girls.  
  
--  
  
The sun was just setting as Clark sat in the loft, trying to concentrate on his homework. Every now and then, his eyes would drift shut, and he would drop his pencil. The noise of wood on paper usually woke him up, but finally his body couldn't take anymore.  
  
His eyes closed, and his pencil and note book slid from his lap. He slumped sideways on the couch, falling almost instantaneously asleep.  
  
--  
  
"Clark!" His father's voice sounded panicked. With a jolt, Clark was awake and on his feet.  
  
He ran down the latter at super speed and met his father at the bottom. Lex Luther was just behind him, an uncharacteristically harsh look on his usually self-satisfied face.  
  
"Dad? Lex?" Clark asked in confusion. The look in his father's eyes made Clark's blood run cold.  
  
It was fear. His father was afraid of Lex.  
  
"Hi, Clark," Lex said, smiling. "Guess what? I know. I know about you. I know you're not human, I know you're some freak who should be in government hands… and I'm going to get you there."  
  
Clark opened his mouth to protest, to try and make up a cover story, to say anything, but nausea suddenly overwhelmed him.  
  
"Oh, what were you going to say? I can't hurt you, is that it? Well, these can!"  
  
Lex pulled out two large chunks of meteor rocks and dangled them in front of Clark's face. Clark felt his knees start to buckle and his vision began to blur.  
  
"No!" Jonathan Kent broke out of his frightened state and tried to knock the rocks from Lex's hand. Lex's smile widened as he pulled out a blood-covered handgun.  
  
Instantly Jonathan's fear returned in full force.  
  
It was Martha's blood that was covering the gun's metal surface and that was all over Lex's hands.  
  
"Ah ah ah," Lex admonished Jonathan, touching the gun against his head. The blood was still wet, and drops stuck to Jonathan's hair, causing a mixture of fear, anger and unbearable sadness to well up inside him.  
  
"Don't do anything, Mr. Kent," Lex said quietly. "You saw what happened to your wife when she tried to stop me…"  
  
"Leave him alone!" Clark cried sharply, still weak from the meteor rocks.  
  
"Then you must come with me."  
  
Clark hesitated. If he went with Lex, then his father would be safe, and he might be able to save his mother… oh, he needed to save his mother…  
  
"A-all right," Clark said quietly, and Lex smiled.  
  
"Good," he said, and shot Jonathan.  
  
Clark cried out as Jonathan's body collapsed, the man unmistakably dead. Blood soaked onto the ground, and all over Clark and Lex's shoes.  
  
"I'll take you where you belong," Lex said, "but I'll break you first. Now, what will be your reaction to Lana's death?"  
  
"NO!"  
  
And suddenly he was in a sea of blood. Familiar faces looked out at him, and Lana's pain-filled eyes looked right into his.  
  
"You killed me," she breathed, and Clark screamed her name in pure agony.  
  
"LANA!"  
  
--  
  
Author's notes:  
This is my first Smallville fic. I haven't seen a lot of season 2, so I'm sorry if they're majorly out of character. Well, Lex was intentionally out of character, but…  
  
Please give me feedback, and I'll try to update ASAP.  
  
Thanks,  
Lala 


	2. part 1

Part 1  
Warning: This part is extremely sappy. You have been warned...  
  
"LANA!"  
  
And suddenly the sea was fading, and Lana's face was falling away from him, and he was paralyzed to save her.  
  
He could then feel himself falling too, screaming Lana's name in anguish.  
Clark fell from the couch and onto the floor, not even his powers protecting him from doing so.  
  
He'd completely forgotten his powers, where he was, and what was happening.  
  
All he could see was Lana's face, along with the other images he'd just witnessed.  
  
He lay on the floor for a few moments, body shaking and sweating at the same time. His breathing was hard and quick, his expression filled with pure terror.  
  
"It wasn't real," he said aloud to himself, voice unsteady. "It… it wasn't real…"  
  
Footsteps could suddenly be heard on the latter, and Clark was filled with both relief and a new wave of fear. Who was it? His parents? No, they wouldn't come up here… Lex? What if it was Lex! He had to stop him…  
  
Still trembling, Clark sat up and tried but didn't manage to get to his feet. He remained on the floor, still shaking, unable to shake off the aftereffects of his nightmare.  
  
The person, whoever it was, finished climbing the stairs, and Clark resigned himself to his fate…  
  
"Clark?"  
  
He whipped around, completely unprepared to hear Lana Lang's voice. But there she was standing at the top of the stairs, a mixture of confusion and concern clouding her beautiful face.  
  
"Lana," he squeaked in surprise, his relief growing. Before he had quite realized what he was doing he was on his feet and walking towards her.  
  
Walking turned to jogging, and jogging turned to running. He luckily didn't go at super speed, which would have resulted in a lot of questions from Lana later, but he still reached her in a matter of seconds.  
  
Lana could only stare as Clark ran up to her and threw his arms around her in an almost literal bone-crushing hug.  
  
Confused, Lana suddenly realized Clark was shaking. His hands were shaking as they ran through her hair, she could feel his arms shaking as they encircled her shoulders, could feel his entire body shaking as he pressed up against her, holding her close.  
  
Confusion gave way to full out concern as she wrapped her own arms around Clark's tall form, running soothing hands up and down his back.  
  
Finally, Clark seemed to realize what he was doing. He pulled back from Lana, feeling almost cold with out her in his arms.  
  
"I'm sorry, Lana," he apologized quickly, as he lost all contact with her.  
  
Lana took in his pale expression and the dark circles under his eyes, which were even more prominent than they'd been earlier that day.  
  
"It's all right," she reassured Clark gently, walking over to the couch and sitting down. "Clark… are… are you okay?"  
  
"I-I'm fine," he said, walking over to his telescope. He stepped out of the loft and breathed in the night air, letting its cool presence sweep over him, somehow taking comfort from it.  
  
Lana stood and went to stand next to Clark, not having believed his words.  
  
Clark heard Lana's shoes against the wood floor and felt her arm brush his as she came and stood beside him. He turned to face her, and looked down into her concerned eyes.  
  
"Clark," Lana started, completely unsure. She had never seen this side of Clark, not for this long at least. He'd been upset before, but he would usually bounce back to his usual quiet, yet heroic self with in a few moments. "Are you sure you're all right?"  
  
He nodded, his hand brushing hers. "I'm fine," he told her, walking back inside. "I'm sorry for acting like this, Lana. I'm just… not myself today."  
  
Lana sat down on the couch, and after a few seconds, Clark sat down beside her.  
  
"It's okay," she told him, smiling sweetly.  
  
There were a few seconds of silence, as Clark finally managed to fully calm down. He could smell Lana's hair, could feel the warmth of her body as she sat beside him. She was alive. They were all alive.  
  
"So," he finally said, "why'd you come over? I mean… did you need something?"  
  
"No," she told him softly. "I just wanted to see if you were all right. You seemed really out of it during school."  
  
"I'm just tired," he told her. "And I still have to get through about half of my homework."  
  
"Do you want some help?" Lana offered, only then seeing Clark's note book and pencil lying on the floor a few feet away from them.  
  
"Are you sure?" He asked.  
  
"It's no problem," she told him, scooping up his things and looking down at what he'd been working on.  
  
They sat there for hours, somehow finishing 2 essays and a chapter of his math book. If Clark had thought he was tired before, it was nothing to how he felt now.  
  
"Thanks so much," he said, rising to his feet and putting his books into his backpack.  
  
"Any time," Lana told him. "I should go… you look really tired."  
  
"No, I'm fine. Really, I'd like you to stay."  
  
"All right, if you're sure," Lana said, as Clark sat back down beside her.  
  
They talked for a few minutes, Clark all the time feeling himself falling asleep. Lana found an old issue of The Torch lying around and started leafing through it.  
  
Clark watched her with half closed eyes, wishing he could stay here with her forever…  
  
His eyes closed completely, and a moment later, his head fell against Lana's shoulder. She looked up, surprised, and felt a blush make its way onto her face.  
  
Clark looked so much younger when he was asleep. His expression was peaceful, and he was completely relaxed. Lana had a thousand urges to hug him, to kiss his cheek, to brush a lock of hair out of his face… But she restrained herself somehow.  
"Clark… Clark, wake up."  
  
The voice sounded far away. It sounded a lot like Lana's. He liked Lana…  
  
"Clark," the voice persisted gently, sounding slightly louder. A hand touched his shoulder, and at the contact Clark jumped, instantly awake.  
  
"I-I'd better be getting back to the Sullivan's," she said, her slight blush hidden by the darkness. "And you really need to get some sleep…"  
  
Clark just now noticed that he was leaning against Lana's shoulder, and sat up, cheeks flaming. "Sorry," he told her. "D-do you want me to walk you home?"  
  
"No, thanks," Lana told him, and got up to leave.  
  
"Lana?" Clark speaking her name caused her to stop, turning back around to face him. "Thanks… for everything."  
  
She smiled, meeting his eyes once again. They were momentarily frozen, simply staring into the others eyes. Finally, Lana spoke. "Good night, Clark."  
  
"Good night, Lana," he said, watching her retreat down the stairs.  
Clark lay in bed sometime later, exhausted but terrified to let himself sleep.  
  
Ever since he'd recovered from the strange disease a week before, he'd been feeling like this. No matter how much sleep he got at night, he would still feel completely exhausted the next morning.  
  
The nightmares had just now started. They seemed so real… so believable...  
  
But Clark was confused. He'd been asleep on Lana's shoulder up in the loft, and didn't remember having any nightmares. Was that a coincidence, or was it something more…?  
  
He thought no more as his eyes closed and he fell into a deep, and soon-to-be troubled sleep.  
  
TBC  
  
Author's notes:  
I know, I know. Very sappy, very out of character for them both. Sorry, but Clark is going to act slightly vulnerable through out this fic... and that was just the first of many only C/L parts. I'm sorry if it was boring, I'm trying here…  
  
Again, please review with feedback and suggestions!  
  
Thanks,  
Lala 


	3. Part 2

Part 3  
Author's notes: Sorry for the long wait… lame writers block!  
  
---  
  
He was lying in a pure white room. He tried to move his arms, his legs, but he couldn't. He was completely immobile, helpless to fend off any attack that might occur.  
  
He tried to use his x-ray vision to see through the wall, to maybe figure out where he was, but nothing happened.  
  
Then he realized: he couldn't break the ropes holding him captive.  
  
They cut deep into his skin, and he could feel blood trickling down his wrists and ankles.  
  
He was bleeding.  
  
His powers were gone.  
  
A door, almost completely invisible in the white wall opened. A tall man entered, his face a mask of calm amusement. His hair was going slightly gray, and his eyes were cold. A badge on his chest read FBI.  
  
"Oh, what's the matter, can't move?" He smirked down at Clark, and he shivered involuntarily.  
  
"Good, your freakish abilities are gone," the man continued speaking. "I've already lost more than enough needles on you."  
  
He pulled out a long syringe, and reached down for Clark's still bleeding arm. "Now, you, let's see what kind of blood you have."  
It was pure agony. Needle after needle was stabbed into him, along with hundreds on chemicals.  
  
One minute he was struggling to stay awake, and the next he wished he could pass out, just to stop the pain.  
  
The man spoke, but he couldn't understand the words. They were so far away…  
  
The door suddenly opened, just as another painful drug had been entered into his body. Clark lost all composure he might have had, and screamed the name of the person he'd been thinking about almost since this torturous experiment had begun.  
  
"Lana!"  
  
"Hi, Clark."  
  
He was shocked to hear her voice, and with a great deal of effort, turned to look at her. There she was, standing in the doorway, holding a tray.  
  
"Lana," he breathed, relief surging through him. They'd come to rescue him. To take him home, where he'd be safe. "Lana…"  
  
"Did you bring the drugs?"  
  
Whatever Clark had been going to say was cut off as the man spoke. At Lana's nod, Clark began to shake.  
  
"Good. Would you like to try?"  
  
Lana smiled a smile that made Clark's blood run cold with fear.  
  
She stepped over to him, and took his hand in hers. Her fingers were cold and hard as they squeezed his.  
  
"This is your fault, you know," she said, almost conversationally as she stabbed a needle into his arm. "If you had told me… if I'd known sooner…"  
  
"No! No! No! No, no, nooo!"  
"Clark, you're going to be late!"  
  
His mother's voice made him nearly fall out of bed.  
  
His physical state was the same as it had been after yesterday's nightmare. He shook and panted, sweated and struggled to calm down.  
  
"Clark!"  
  
His mother called his name again, and he sighed quietly. He had to calm down. He didn't want to worry his parents with some silly nightmares.  
  
Entangling himself from his sheets, he got out of bed and got dressed and ready for school in less than 2 minutes.  
  
He was downstairs and gulping down a peace of toast with in 3, and out the door yelling a hurried good-bye to his parents in 4.  
  
5 minutes saw him walking up to Smallville high, looking and feeling just as exhausted as the day before.  
  
He sighed and walked inside, heading to his locker and getting his books for his first class.  
As he opened the locker door, about three books fell out, landing more or less on top of them.  
  
Sighing, he picked them back up and threw them back into his locker. After grabbing his things, he attempted to close the door.  
  
It wouldn't close.  
  
Annoyed, he rearranged the order of his books and tried to close the locker once again.  
  
Again, nothing happened.  
  
"Come on!" He said aloud, growing more and more frustrated.  
  
"You know, that's never going to close with a book practically hanging out," a voice commented from behind him.  
  
Startled, he turned around to face Chloe.  
  
"What do you want?" He snapped, instantly regretting it. "I'm sorry, Chloe," he said, seeing the hurt in her eyes. "I'm just really tired, that's all."  
  
"You look tired," Chloe said, walking in front of him and reaching up to give him a hand with his locker. "How much sleep did you get last night?"  
  
He sighed and leaned against the locker beside his. "I don't know," he said, not even looking at Chloe.  
  
The bell rang just as Chloe managed to get his locker close. "You really need to organize that better," she told him.  
  
She reached out to brush a peace of lint from his shirt, but stopped suddenly, a crimsoned color coming into her cheeks.  
  
If Clark had been more awake, he would have asked her about it, but as it was, he barely noticed.  
  
"See you in English," Chloe told him, and walked away.  
  
Clark nodded and headed down the hall, towards history class.  
  
---  
  
History was usually boring, but Clark usually found ways to amuse himself by staring at Lana, and losing himself in her beauty.  
  
Today however, Clark was too tired to do much of anything. He fell into his seat, not even noticing whom he was sitting next to.  
  
"Hi, Clark," a familiar voice said, and Clark felt soft hair brush his cheek.  
  
"Lana," he said in surprise, turning to look at her.  
  
They didn't have a chance to say anymore, for at that moment the teacher walked into the room, and almost instantly began to lecture them in a monotone.  
  
Clark tried to take notes. He listened to the scratching his pencil made as he moved it across the paper. But gradually, as the class wore on, his pencil moved slower and slower, and the teacher's voice began to fade.  
  
Clark found the noise of his pencil rather relaxing. He eventually stopped writing altogether, and his eyes began to droop.  
  
The next thing Clark knew, the bell was ringing shrilly, and the teacher was leaving, muttering something about ungrateful students as she did so.  
  
See you at lunch," Lana told him, looking at him strangely. She grinned, as she headed for the door, "if you haven't passed out from exhaustion by then."  
  
---  
  
Lana walked into the Kent's barn, taking a moment to look around at the animals before heading over to the latter to the hayloft, and beginning to climb it.  
  
"Clark," she called as she did so, "your mom said you were up here. I was just wondering if you…"  
  
She trailed off as she reached the top of the stairs and saw Clark curled up on the couch, asleep.  
  
She walked fully into the loft and over to Clark. She wanted so badly to touch his cheek, to hold him, t brush that stray peace of hair off his forehead…  
  
She couldn't hold herself back, and she reached out, gently brushing Clark's hair out of his eyes.  
  
He stirred at her touch, but didn't wake up. Lana walked away from him and went to look out at the sun, which was just setting. She loved seeing the sunset from Clark's loft…  
  
The sky slowly began to darken as the colors swirled and the sun sunk behind white, puffy clouds, almost looking like a huge fireball.  
  
The sky became velvety black, and Lana watched, spellbound, as the stars began to come out. They were like thousands of little light bulbs against the dark sky… the sight was breathtaking.  
  
Once she'd had enough of the stars, she wondered if she should leave. She'd come over to see if Clark needed any help on his history homework, since he'd practically been lying in her lap during class that day… not that Lana had minded.  
  
She walked back over to the couch, and frowned. Clark, who had looked relatively peaceful when she'd seen him some twenty minutes ago, now looked slightly troubled.  
  
His eyes were moving under their lids, and he looked almost scared. Abruptly he let out a gasp and a cry of something Lana couldn't understand and jolted upright with a whimper.  
  
"Clark?" She asked in alarm, but he didn't seem to hear her.  
  
He had sat up and was now sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees, his chin resting on top of them. His breathing was hard, and he was trembling slightly.  
  
Concerned, Lana reached out and touched his shoulder lightly. "Clark? You okay?"  
  
At the unexpected feel of a hand on his shoulder, and hearing Lana's voice, Clark jumped, nearly falling off the couch.  
  
"L-L-Lana?" He managed to choke out, looking up and seeing the brunette standing over him.  
  
She nodded and sat down beside him. Just her presence calmed Clark down, and he suddenly reached out and took her hand.  
  
Her skin felt so soft against his, her small hand fitting perfectly in his larger one.  
  
If Lana had been surprised by Clark abruptly taking her hand, she didn't show it. She said nothing, just sat with him and held his hand. If it would helped him, then she was happy to do anything.  
  
That was the excuse she told herself, but she couldn't ignore the feelings moving through out her body, that always happened whenever her and Clark had any kind of contact.  
Unknown to Lana, the same feelings were what helped Clark relax the most.  
  
---  
  
Author's notes:  
Lame ending, I know. I'm sorry, I've had writers block on this, (still do as a matter of fact).  
  
If you could, please, please, please give me some suggestions so I can actually get to the real plot! There will be a real plot, I promise. And some action… I hope… 


	4. Part 3

Part 3  
  
Saturday morning saw Clark bailing hey long before the sun had risen. The dreams were getting worse, and he was afraid he might wake his parents. If that happened, there would certainly be questions, and though Clark knew his parents would only be concerned for him, he didn't feel like sharing this with them.  
  
The door to the farmhouse opened abruptly, and Jonathon Kent came out, doing a double take when he saw Clark.  
  
"You're up early, son," he commented, walking to the barn to milk the cows.  
  
Clark only nodded. He would normally do his chores at super speed, but he was just too tired. Besides, the longer it took for him to work, the longer it would keep his mind off the nightmares…  
  
The only decent sleep he'd gotten had been on Thursday night, when he'd fallen asleep with Lana, and for a little last night, for reasons he didn't know. When he'd woken up Lana had been there, so maybe she had something to do with it, but he wasn't sure.  
  
He was still confused as to why he hadn't had any nightmares when he'd been with Lana. He'd fallen asleep for a little while in history class the day before he knew, but he didn't remember having any nightmares. Was that because of Lana?  
  
About an hour later, despite working at normal speed, Clark had finished his chores.  
  
The sun had come up while he had been working, and Clark was pretty sure his mother would be up. He walked inside, looking forward to breakfast, but the kitchen was empty.  
  
Confused, Clark went and got some milk from the fridge. He raised the bottle to his lips, expecting his mother to run in and stop him, but she didn't.  
  
His father came in just then, wiping his hands on his jeans.  
  
"Where's mom?" Clark inquired, putting the milk away and rummaging around for something to eat.  
  
"She's probably getting ready for her doctor appointment," his father responded, taking out an egg.  
  
"Doctor appointment?" Clark repeated, confused. "What doctor appointment." He asked, putting a pop tart in the toaster.  
  
"Your mother wasn't feeling very well last night," his father said, and Clark saw the worry he was trying to hide. "Her stomach was hurting her. I told her that maybe we should go to the hospital, but she insisted that she would be fine."  
  
Clark sat down at the table, completely forgetting about his toasting pop tart.  
  
"Do you think it's…" But before he could finish, his mother came down the stairs.  
  
She looked tired, and she was walking slightly hunched over, as though in pain.  
  
"Martha?" Jonathon asked, looking concerned.  
  
"I'm fine," she said, then grimaced and clutched her stomach.  
  
"Mom?" Clark, forgetting his exhaustion, leaped up and super speeded over to his mother. With in seconds he had picked her up, and taken her over to the living room couch. After lying her gently down, he dropped to his knees, and used his x-ray vision to look inside her.  
  
Her lungs were fine, heart fine, stomach…  
  
"It's the baby," his mother said, her eyes glistening with painful tears.  
  
"I… it… yes," Clark said, fingers of fear and pain tightening around his heart.  
  
"Come on," Jonathon said, suddenly beside them. "I'm taking you to the hospital." He bent down and picked her up, and Clark protested, trying to take her back.  
  
"Dad, let me," Clark told him, reaching for his mother.  
  
"No," Jonathon said, already walking towards the door. "You need to finish my chores and deliver those flowers to the retirement center. I'm sure everything's fine…"  
  
"But Dad," Clark protested, not wanting to leave his mother.  
  
"Clark, listen to him," his mother said weakly. "I'll be fine."  
  
"I'll be there as soon as I can," Clark promised, and watched them leave.  
  
He stood motionless long after the door had closed, feeling sick. What was wrong? The baby, or what he assumed was the baby, hadn't looked right. It wasn't moving, and didn't appear to be breathing.  
  
He took in a deep breath, and walked back outside. He tried to concentrate on the remaining chores, but he couldn't stop thinking about his mother.  
  
The last chore was repairing the fence. One of the poles had been knocked down and Clark grabbed it, pounding it hard into the ground with bare hands.  
  
It sunk deep into the soil, but Clark didn't stop. He tried to take out his frustration and anger out on the rebellious post, but was afraid he'd break it if he weren't careful.  
  
Sighing, he went to get the flowers for the retirement center. His mother should be the one doing this, he thought glumly as he loaded bag after bag of flowers into the truck.  
  
He got inside and drove to the retirement center with out realizing it. He arrived and jumped from the truck, suddenly having an urge to hurry.  
  
He had to get to her as soon as possible, he thought desperately to himself, grabbing wildly for the bags.  
  
Though Clark was strong, he was still exhausted. He tried to lift all 5 bags from the truck at once, and this simple task, which normally would be so easy for him, was nearly impossible.  
  
3 of the bags fell from his arms and he tried but failed to pick them up again.  
  
Unnoticed by Clark, another car pulled up beside his. Lana watched him struggle with the flowers.  
  
He seemed upset, she noted, seeing how tense Clark appeared. Lana wondered where his mother was. Wasn't she the one who usually took care of the flowers?  
  
"Stupid!" Clark shouted, as all 5 bags fall to the ground. He raised his foot as though to kick at them, but luckily missed.  
  
His foot slammed into the side of the truck, and either the sound of his shoe connecting with the car, or the pain Lana was sure the collision caused, seemed to snap him out of it.  
  
He fell to the ground, his head in his hands, and sat motionless.  
  
Lana was unsure if she should go to him or not, but before she could make up her mind Clark had gotten to his feet again, gathered up his bags and dashed inside the retirement center, all in what seemed to Lana a matter of seconds.  
  
---  
  
Clark walked into his house sometime later, hoping against hope that his parents were home, that everything was fine, and that he could hug his mom and fall asleep in her arms and not have any dreams of pain and sadness and fear…  
  
"Dad? Mom?" He called, almost pleading, but he received no answer.  
  
He sighed deeply, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table. It was about 1 o'clock in the afternoon by now, two and a half hours since his parents had left. He'd wanted to be at the hospital long before now, and he knew he should go, had to go, but he suddenly couldn't move.  
  
He'd been running on mostly adrenalin through out the morning, which had only been strengthened by the incident with his mother. Now that he was sitting down, in a silent room, with nothing to distract his mind, he suddenly felt so tired.  
  
Before he could force himself to his feet, his eyes began to close, and his head fell against his chest.  
  
"Mom," he murmured, before his exhaustion completely overpowered him, and he knew no more.  
  
---  
  
"Clark."  
  
His father's voice was soft yet it still made Clark jump.  
  
"Dad?" He leaped to his feet and turned to face his father. Instantly he knew something was wrong.  
  
His father's expression was a mixture of pain, concern, and fear. "We lost the baby, son." His tone was grave and contained a despair so deep that Clark could almost feel it coming off his father in waves.  
  
He stood in stunned silence for a few seconds, before grabbing hold of the kitchen chair and nearly collapsing back into it.  
  
He knew he must look as white as a ghost, and he was pretty sure his hands were shaking, but he barely noticed.  
  
"What… what happened?"  
  
"The umbilical cord strangled it," was his father's reply. "They had to perform a sea section - create an incision and take the baby out that way - to get her out, but by then it was too late."  
  
"It was a girl?" Clark asked dully, though it sounded more like a statement than a question.  
  
"Yes. She was dead when I saw her."  
  
Jonathan looked down, tears forming hot and painful behind his eyes.  
  
"How's mom?" Clark asked quietly, seeming to be numb of all emotions.  
  
"Not good. She lost a lot of blood and the doctors are worried. Clark… there's something else."  
  
Clark looked up sharply from where he'd been staring at the kitchen table.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I-I got into a car accident on my way home."  
  
It was only then that Clark noticed the blood soaking Jonathan's shirt.  
  
"Are you all right?" He asked in alarm.  
  
"Yes… I'm fine. But… I… Clark, I hit Lana's car. She… she's dead, son. She died instantly."  
  
If his father had continued speaking, Clark didn't know.  
  
He'd just lost his younger sister, and his mother was in critical condition.  
  
But Lana, too? He couldn't breathe.  
  
"No," he moaned, leaping to his feet. "No! I don't believe you! She's fine! No!"  
  
He rushed at his father, but he suddenly dissolved in a cold puddle of dark blood.  
  
"NO!"  
  
---  
  
Clark wasn't sure what woke him up, falling out of the kitchen chair, the noise of it hitting the ground, or his body's impact as he, too slammed into the hard floor.  
  
Whatever it was, he didn't care. The dream was over, and that was all that mattered.  
  
He leaped to his feet, tripping over the chair in his frantic rush to get to the door. He had to see his mother, to make sure she was okay.  
  
He stopped, and took several deep, unsteady breaths.  
  
"Calm down, Kent," he muttered under his breath, bending down and picking up the chair.  
  
He put it back in place and once again started for the door. Before he was halfway there however, someone called his name.  
  
"Clark?"  
  
He jumped at the unexpected voice, and looked up to see Lana standing out side.  
  
"Lana," he said in surprise, walking over and opening the screen door for her. "What… what are you doing here?"  
  
"I saw you at the retirement center earlier today," she explained, walking inside and taking in his appearance.  
  
He looked even worse up close than he had a few hours ago. He still appeared exhausted, and as she looked into his eyes, she saw unmasked fear and pain there. Stopping her explanation abruptly, she stepped closer to him, resting her hand gently on his shoulder.  
  
"Clark, what's wrong?" She asked, and he sighed deeply.  
  
"My mom's in the hospital," he said quietly, but not by choice. His throat felt tight, and his fear seemed to grow as he said the dreadful words aloud.  
  
Lana's eyes widened in surprise and concern, and she stepped closer still, placing her other hand on Clark's shoulder, unsure if she wanted to hug him or not.  
  
"What happened?" She asked, unconsciously kneading the tense mussels in his shoulders.  
  
"I'm not sure," Clark said quietly, body relaxing both under Lana's gentle touch and massage. "My dad said she wasn't feeling well last night, and this morning she almost collapsed. My dad took her to the hospital, and I was just about to go there myself."  
  
"I'll drive you," Lana offered, only noticing that she'd been massaging Clark's shoulders for the last few minutes. Giving them one last squeeze she moved back from him quickly, and went on speaking.  
  
"If that's all right with you anyway. I'd like to see how she's doing, and if there's anything I could do for you and your family."  
  
"Thanks a lot, Lana," Clark said, voice husky.  
  
"No problem," Lana told him, giving him a reassuring smile.  
  
They started towards the door, and headed outside. But before they'd even completely walked down the front steps, Jonathan was suddenly walking towards them.  
  
"Dad!" Clark cried, a mixture of fear and relief surging through him.  
  
"Clark," his father said, opening the front door and walking inside. The two teens followed, and as Lana closed the door behind her, Jonathan only jus seemed to notice her.  
  
"Lana," he acknowledged quietly, and sunk into the kitchen chair that Clark had previously been occupying.  
  
"What happened?" Clark asked worriedly, almost afraid to look at his father.  
  
"W-we lost the baby," Jonathan said quietly, and Clark felt the blood and color drain from his face.  
  
"Something happened to her lungs," Jonathan continued brokenly, "they had to get her out with a sea section. She was dead before we'd even reached the hospital."  
  
"The baby was a girl?" Clark almost whispered, inadvertently moving closer to Lana  
  
This was all just too painfully familiar for him.  
  
In his dream, the baby had been a girl, and she'd died, too. He felt that this was somehow his fault, and his subconscious took him nearer to the one person he felt could help him with this.  
  
Jonathan nodded, and after a pause, Clark asked, "how's mom?"  
  
"She lost a lot of blood," Jonathan said quietly. "She passed out right after we got to the hospital, and she hasn't woken up since. I just…"  
  
He broke off and looked down at the kitchen table. Clark stumbled over and sat beside his father, both offering and seeking comfort.  
  
Lana stood unsure by the door, wanting desperately to go to Clark, but not knowing what to say.  
  
Jonathan finally managed to compose himself slightly, and he pushed his chair back, speaking as he did so. "I wanted to make some coffee," he said, almost to himself. "The stuff at the hospital tastes like bitter water, and Martha loves fresh cream…"  
  
"I'll do it, Mr. Kent," Lana offered quickly, and Jonathan nodded his thanks wordlessly, sinking back into the chair.  
  
Lana looked through the cupboards, but couldn't find any coffee beans. "There's some in the storm cellar," Jonathan said, not even looking up.  
  
"Thanks," Lana said, walking quickly outside.  
  
She entered the darkened cellar and looked around, struggling to adjust her eyes to the dim interior.  
  
Before she could find the coffee beans however, something strange caught her eye. Lana blinked, closed her eyes, and then reopened them.  
  
It was still there.  
  
"What the," she murmured, walking over and touching it, still not believing it was real.  
  
But it was. She could feel it's cool metallic surface under her fingertips, and stood, staring at the object she'd only seen on movies or in Science Fiction magazines.  
  
But it was unmistakable for anything else.  
  
It was a spaceship.  
  
Author's notes:  
I wasn't sure if I was going to have Lana find out about Clark in this fic, but as you can no doubt see, I've made up my mind.  
  
Thanks a lot for all your suggestions; they were very helpful for later parts. All will be explained in time, as soon as I figure it out myself.  
  
Please, review with any and all comments!  
  
Oh, and the reason I made this part rather long is because I don't know when the next one will be up. Maybe by Friday, but don't hold your breath. It all depends on if I get any ideas… ::coughorsuggestionscough:: 


	5. part 4

Part 4  
  
Lana stared opened mouthed at the Spaceship. Oh boy, did Clark have some explaining to do. Was this what he'd been hiding from her? Was this his secret?  
  
And why on earth wasn't she more freaked out than this? If she was right, then Clark was a… well, an alien!  
  
Thinking of Clark made her remember the main reason she'd come down here in the first place, and she quickly found the coffee beans.  
  
She forced herself to put the spaceship out of her mind, and think about more pressing matters.  
  
Returning to the house, she found Clark and Mr. Kent in relatively the same state as she'd left them.  
  
As she looked at Clark however, he looked up and met her eyes. His eyes contained a fear that she knew wasn't just fuelled by the condition of his mother.  
  
Did he know? Had he realized that she would have seen the spaceship?  
  
No, she told herself sharply. Stop thinking about it and focus on what's important right now: helping Clark and his dad. Worry about the stupid spaceship later.  
  
She silently prepared the coffee, and placed a cup in front of Mr. Kent.  
  
He rose on shaky legs and got a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard. After returning to the table and adding a liberal amount of alcohol to his drink, he drank his coffee in silence.  
  
Lana hesitated, then handed a cup to Clark.  
  
He tried to take it, but his hand was shaking so badly he nearly dropped it. It was only his quick reflexes that managed to save it from shattering to peaces on the kitchen floor.  
  
"You all right?" Lana asked, touching his arm. She knew, of course, that Clark wasn't all right, but she'd asked it before she could stop herself.  
  
Still, he nodded numbly, even though he knew she didn't believe him, and sipped his coffee silently, with out adding any cream or sugar to mask the bitterness.  
  
Jonathon rose abruptly a few moments later, almost dropping his own cup in his hurry. "We have to go," he said, nearly knocking his chair over as he struggled to get to the door. "Y-Your mother might have woken up."  
  
"Can Lana come?" Clark inquired, rising himself. He turned to Lana and said, "if… if you still want to, that is."  
  
"Yes, I'd like that," Lana said, resisting the strong urge to take Clark's hand.  
  
Jonathon simply nodded; an they walked outside in silence.  
  
---  
  
Lana had stayed at the hospital for just under three hours. While she'd been there Martha's condition had remained the same, and the doctors were growing worried.  
  
Her shift at the Talon started at 5 though, and she'd been forced to leave. Chloe had shown up just as she was leaving, and wasted no time in hugging Clark. Lana had wanted to do just that all afternoon, but somehow held herself back, for reasons she herself didn't know.  
  
"I just heard," Lana had over heard Chloe say, as she'd run over to where Clark had been sitting. "I am so sorry."  
  
Clark had returned Chloe's embrace, but pulled back quicker than Chloe had wanted him to. He'd turned to Lana, who'd been standing near the doors and asked, "are you leaving?"  
  
"I've gotta get to work," she'd told him, both Chloe and herself seeing the disappointment in Clark's eyes. "I'll come by around 10 though, all right?"  
  
"Yeah… thank you so much, Lana," Clark said, and Lana had reluctantly left.  
  
Now, an hour or so later, she waited tables and tried not to think about Clark and the spaceship in his storm cellar.  
  
"Welcome to the Talon, what can I get for you?" She asked automaticly, stepping over to a table.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts," was the reply, and Lana blinked, only now recognizing the man sitting there as Lex Luthor.  
  
"Hi, Lex," she greeted, giving her business partner a weak smile.  
  
"Something wrong?" Lex inquired, and Lana hesitated.  
  
"Clark's mom's in the hospital," she told him finally. "I was there with him and Mr. Kent and I guess I'm still worried."  
  
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Lex said in a bracing tone, giving Lana a reassuring smile.  
  
Lana nodded, trying to look as though Lex's words had made her feel better. "Yeah… so, I'm assuming you want your usual?"  
  
"Yup," was his reply, and Lana quickly walked away.  
  
---  
  
The hard plastic of the waiting room chair was barely noticeable to Clark as he sat, staring at the floor. He had no idea how much time had passed, had no idea how long he'd been here.  
  
Chloe was still sitting beside him, sipping a cup of hospital coffee. She'd attempted conversation, but he hadn't put much effort into his end of it, and they'd soon fallen quiet again.  
  
His father was a ways down the hall, pacing outside Martha's room. Every once and a while a nurse would walk by and order him back to the waiting room, but as soon as they would leave, satisfied, his father would immediately return to the hallway, wanting to be as close to Martha as was currently possible.  
  
"It's getting late," Chloe suddenly said, causing Clark to look up and over to her. "You should really get some sleep… you want me to drive you home?"  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"Clark…"  
  
"I can't leave her," he said quietly. "I can't lose her… not now."  
  
Chloe quickly put her arm around Clark's shoulders, but just as quickly pulled it away, blushing furiously.  
  
A moment later Chloe spoke again, voice soft with both concern and embarrassment.  
  
"Clark, are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?"  
  
He shook his head and looked away from Chloe, in the direction of his father.  
  
"I can't leave her… I can't leave either of them…" He swallowed hard, wishing for his mother's gentle embrace more than ever.  
  
"I'm gonna go," Chloe said quietly. "I… my dad… call me," she stumbled over her words, and finally just kissed Clark quickly on the cheek and leaped to her feet, bolting for the door.  
  
"Chloe?" Clark called after her, and the blonde turned back to face him, hope in her eyes. What was he going to say? That he loved her? Was he going to get up and run towards her, and she would hold him, just as she'd been wanting to all evening?  
  
"Thanks for coming," was what Clark really said. "I-it means a lot to have you here. I know mom would appreciate it… you're like a daughter to her, you know."  
  
He fell silent, and Chloe, finally realizing that as Martha thought of her as a daughter, Clark thought of her as a sister and nothing else, left the hospital silently grieving, knowing they would never be.  
  
---  
  
Lana was just finishing wiping down the last table when their came a knock at the front door of the Talon.  
  
Glancing up, she saw Clark standing out side. Surprised as well as concerned, Lana went and opened the door for him.  
  
"Clark," she said as he walked in. "What… what are you doing here?"  
  
"M-My dad was right," he said by way of answering. "Hospital coffee really is terrible."  
  
"You want a latte?" Lana offered, sensing that this really wasn't the reason that Clark had come here.  
  
"I just had to get out of there," Clark said by way of reply, sinking into a chair. "It… I just… I couldn't watch my dad anymore," he said quietly, and Lana looked away, busying herself with the coffee machine.  
  
They remained silent until Lana had finished making the coffee and joined Clark at the table. She knew she shouldn't ask him about this, especially not now, but she couldn't hold it inside any longer.  
  
"Clark, why was there a spaceship in your storm cellar?"  
  
Clark began to choke on his coffee and put his cup down so hard on the table that it nearly spilled.  
  
"How… what… when?" He gasped out, staring wide-eyed at Lana.  
  
"When I went down to get the coffee beans, I saw it," she explained, and Clark nodded.  
  
"I should have known," Clark murmured. "I was just so distracted…"  
  
"I'm sorry," Lana apologized. "I shouldn't have asked… I just…"  
  
"No… it's just… I'm assuming you've figured it out?" Clark asked quietly, eyes focused on the tabletop. "I mean… that I'm an… alien…"  
  
Lana nodded, and Clark sighed heavily.  
  
"I'm sorry, Lana… I wanted to tell you before now… I just… I didn't want you to hate me…"  
  
His voice cracked, and Lana stood, gently tilting his face upwards so that he was looking at her.  
  
"Hate you? Clark, why on earth would I hate you?"  
  
"I came here in the meteor shower, Lana… I… it's my fault your parents are dead… I'm so sorry…"  
  
Again his voice shook, and he blinked rapidly, one tear making it's way painfully down his cheek  
  
Lana gently wiped it away with the pad of her thumb, and embraced Clark.  
  
"Clark, it's okay," she told him gently, her voice muffled slightly by his shoulder. "I would never blame you for what happened… and I could never hate you."  
  
Clark buried his face into her soft hair and held her close, slowly regaining his composure.  
  
"There's so much to tell you," he said a moment later, loosening his hold on Lana slightly.  
  
"It can wait," Lana reassured him, running her hands through his hair. "Let's concentrate on more important things right now… like your mother…"  
  
Mentioning his mother seemed to snap Clark back to reality. Lana felt him tense, and start to pull away from her.  
  
She pulled him back, not yet willing to let him go. "Don't worry, Clark," she told him softly. "Everything will turn out all right…"  
  
She released him, and leaned over to kiss his cheek. Unknown to her, Clark had been going to do the same thing, and so instead of the others cheeks, their lips touched in a kiss so brief that Lana wasn't even sure it had happened.  
  
They stared at each other for a second, before Clark leaned down and kissed Lana purposely. She returned it instantly, and though it only lasted a few seconds longer than the last one, it felt like a heavenly eternity to both.  
  
Once they'd pulled back from each other, they simply stared spellbound into each other's eyes, feeling like they were the only two people in the world  
  
"W-we'd better go," Clark said, and reached out, tentatively taking Lana's hand. She squeezed his, letting him know that it was all right.  
  
They walked outside, and Lana locked the door. They got into her car and drove to the hospital in relative silence, their hands still clasped together.  
  
When they arrived, Jonathan was slumped in a chair, asleep.  
  
Clark looked sadly at his father, and then in the direction of his mother's room. Lana led him gently over to a chair, and sat down in the one beside him.  
  
---  
  
Both Lana and Clark had fallen asleep sometime later, with Lana stretched out on two chairs, and Clark, still sitting, with his head slumped onto his chest.  
  
Lana awoke as a nurse walked by, pushing a cart noisily. Sitting up she glanced around, at last spotting a clock.  
  
It was 12:45, and surprising, the waiting room was virtually deserted.  
  
Looking over, she saw that Jonathan was still asleep, and glancing to the chair beside hers, saw also that Clark was as well.  
  
Getting up, she walked down the hall and got a soda from a nearby vending machine, not wanting to risk the coffee.  
  
Returning to her chair she sipped her coke and watched as a man ran in, yelling something about his wife's water breaking. A nurse rushed over to him and inquired as to where his wife was.  
  
Lana stifled a grin as the man slapped a hand to his forehead and ran out the door again, yelling that he would be right back! As he did so.  
  
As the doors closed, Lana felt movement beside her. Turning, she saw Clark jerk, and sit fully upright with a gasp.  
  
"What… who… when… how's mom?" He asked in one breath.  
  
Lana pushed a strand of hair out of Clark's eyes as she spoke.  
  
"I don't know," she replied, barely noticing as the man ran back in, followed by a semi amused pregnant woman, Lana could only assume was his wife.  
  
A nurse walked passed them and Clark called out to her. "Excuse me… do you know anything on Martha Kent?"  
  
At the sound of his wife's name, Jonathon suddenly jumped, waking up as well.  
  
The nurse stopped, and turned to Clark.  
  
"Are you a family member?"  
  
"I'm her son," Clark responded. "This is my G- Lana," he said, turning bright red.  
  
The nurse hadn't seemed to notice what Clark had continued speaking, for when Jonathon had informed her that he was Martha's husband, her attention had turned completely to him.  
  
"She's stable," she told him, and Clark's shoulders slumped with relief.  
  
"Can we see her?" Jonathon asked, leaping to his feet.  
  
Clark was quick to follow, pulling Lana up with him. There hands had somehow found the others during the last conversation.  
  
"Yes," the nurse said after hesitating. "She's not awake, and you can only stay for a short time, but go right ahead."  
  
Jonathon almost ran down the hall and Clark followed, but Lana hesitated.  
  
"Clark," she said, touching his arm. "I'll just wait here, all right? I don't want to intrude…"  
  
Clark turned back to look at her. "Are you sure?" At her nod, he set off again, calling over his shoulder, "I'll only be a few minutes!"  
  
-  
  
His mother looked so small lying under the crisp, white hospital sheets, and Clark was strongly reminded of a time barely two weeks ago when Martha had lay in this same hospital, near death because of a sickness caused by him.  
  
He sighed and went over, taking her limp hand in hers.  
  
"Hi, Mom," he whispered, holding her hand lightly, as though afraid it might break, "I'm glad you're going to be all right."  
  
He remained silent for a time, simply staring at her. He'd given his father a few minutes with her, but finally had asked if he could see her.  
  
"I'd better go," he told Martha's unconscious form, bending down and kissing her forehead. "I love you, Momma," he whispered, calling her the name he hadn't used since before second grade.  
  
As he left her hospital room, Clark couldn't help wondering.  
  
Had he somehow caused this to happen to Martha, too?  
  
Author's notes:  
I attempted to make this part longer as well as better spell checked, but I don't think I've succeeded.  
  
There's a reason for my bad spelling, and if I've gotten a few things wrong with the layout of the loft or Talon or eye colors, etc. I'm blind… meaning, I can't see. I've mostly read the transcripts of Smallville, and only seen 1 or 2 full episodes of the show, which is the reason for my bad grammar/spelling.  
  
I'm really trying hard to improve it, and I wasn't planning on saying it in here, mainly because I'm paranoid people will judge me by my disability and stop reading my fic and my ego will be crushed, sssooo… yeah.  
  
See what I mean about bad grammar? And that was a terrible sentence structure!  
  
All right, while I go try to think of an idea for the next part, please review! I need hem more than ever, after my little confession… and no, that was* not* a bribe!  
  
J  
  
Lala 


	6. part 5

Part 5  
  
Clark sighed tiredly as he ascended the stairs into his loft.  
  
It was late Sunday afternoon, and his mother had finally woken up earlier that morning. He'd stayed at the hospital most of the day, but she'd finally encysted that he go home and get some sleep.  
  
Clark had finally agreed to go home, but only because he'd promised to meet with Lana that evening to explain everything.  
  
He went and looked out at the setting sun, fascinated by it. He almost didn't hear the footsteps and if Lana hadn't said something he probably wouldn't have noticed her right away.  
  
"Hi," she said, coming to stand beside him.  
  
"Hey," he replied, giving her a smile.  
  
They watched the sun finish setting, before walking over and sitting on the couch.  
  
"So, what do you want to know about?" Clark asked her.  
  
"What really happened the day of the twisters?" Lana inquired, eyes bright with curiosity.  
  
"I somehow saved you," Clark told her. "I-I'm still not quite sure how, but I got into your truck and protected you."  
  
After that, everything came out. He explained about his powers, all the times he had saved people's lives, and the effects certain meteor rocks had on him.  
  
"That's why you always stayed kind of far away from me last year," Lana said. "I'm sorry Clark, if I had known…"  
  
"It's okay," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, now."  
  
After he'd finished explaining everything, Clark looked shyly at Lana.  
  
"You-you still don't think of me any differently?"  
  
Lana smiled. "Of course I think of you differently," she told him, but catching the look on his face, added quickly, "but that doesn't change how I feel about you."  
  
"I've had feelings for you for a long time," Clark told her softly. "I'd like it if we were more than just good friends."  
  
Lana smiled, and reached out, cupping Clark's face in her hands. "I'd like that, too," she told him softly, moving closer towards him. "I'd like that a lot."  
  
Their lips touched softly, and after a moment, the once sweet kiss had become intensely passionate.  
  
They broke the kiss some time later, and Clark laid down, with Lana on top of him. He held her close and studied her beautiful features.  
  
Lana watched him too, and they lay their holding each other for a long time, until Clark fell asleep, too blissfully happy to move.  
  
Lana watched Clark sleep for a while, unsure if any movement would wake him or not. After a while, she lightly ran her fingers lightly along Clark's cheek, enjoying the feel of his skin against hers. She trailed kisses over his cheeks and lips, her feather light touch not seeming to disturb Clark in the slightest.  
  
He moved closer to her, and Lana's Smile widened.  
  
"Sweet dreams, Clark," she whispered, kissing his forehead.  
  
She lay there for a while, simply watching his chest rise and fall. Slowly, her own eyes began to droop. She soon fell asleep, still in Clark's arms.  
  
Lana awoke sometime later, feeling Clark moving slightly against her. She looked over at him and saw that his expression looked troubled.  
  
She held him tighter, running her hands through his dark hair, and up and down his back, trying to calm him down with out actually waking him.  
  
Abruptly Clark's eyes fluttered open, and he stared at Lana in bewilderment.  
  
"Lana?" He asked sleepily, sounding fearful and hopeful all at once.  
  
"Shh," she murmured, putting a finger to his lips. "I'm here. Go back to sleep, Clark."  
  
He pulled her closer and changed positions slightly, before falling asleep again almost instantly.  
  
This time Lana stayed awake. She wasn't sure, but Clark had seemed to be having a nightmare of some sort.  
  
Clark had been through a lot, she knew, but she hadn't expected it to cause nightmares. She watched him carefully, but he seemed perfectly peaceful now.  
  
About an hour later, Lana knew she would have to leave soon.  
  
"I have to go now," she told him, and gently, she pulled herself from Clark's arms, kissed him quickly, and left, looking back once.  
  
---  
  
He was sitting under a tree with Lana, near a small stream. She was making a daisy chain and he was reading, just enjoying the feel of the warm sun on his back, and Lana's company.  
  
Suddenly, the scene changed.  
  
"I have to go now," Lana told him, and was pulled away by an unseen force.  
  
"NO! LANA!" Clark was on his feet instantly, but all that he saw was the stream flowing calmly, and all that he heard was the fading of what sounded like a large quantity of wind, mixed in with the faintest of screams.  
  
And then it appeared, as though out of know where, a huge tornado cloud, pulling all kinds of debris with it.  
  
Including a raven-haired princess.  
  
"CLAAARK! Help! Aaahhh!"  
  
Pure terror was clear in her voice, and Clark super speeded over to the tornado at once.  
  
The wind whipped around him, and he rose off the ground, along with a small tree some 50 feet away.  
  
Clark was paralyzed to move, and he could just make out Lana, a few feet bellow him, just as helpless as him.  
  
Then as quickly as the storm had come it was gone, and before Clark quite knew what was happening, Lana had fallen to the ground, where he heard the dull thud as her head connected with a large rock.  
  
He knew before he reached her:  
  
She was dead.  
  
---  
  
"Nnnnnooooo!"  
  
He was on his feet more or less screaming at the top of his lungs before he was even fully awake.  
  
He looked around wildly, but Lana was nowhere in sight.  
  
"She probably just went home," he murmured to himself, sinking weakly back onto he couch.  
  
After a few minutes, he got up shakily, and climbed down from the loft and into the house.  
  
His father still wasn't home, and Clark knew he wouldn't return until his mother did.  
  
Sighing, he walked into the kitchen. The clock on the wall read 9:45, and he'd picked up the phone before he could stop himself.  
  
He'd dialed the Sullivan's number and heard the phone ringing before he realized quite what he was doing, and just as he was about to hang up, a familiar voice picked up the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey, Chloe."  
  
"Clark! How's your mom?"  
  
Clark was relieved that it had been Chloe who'd answered. If it'd been Lana, he had no idea what he would have said. But as far as Chloe knew, the only problem in Clark's life was his hospitalized mother, and that was what Clark needed right now, a nice, normal talk with one of his best friend.  
  
Chloe was in the middle of saying something, when Clark's sharp hearing picked up the sound of a door opening, and Chloe saying, "oh, hi, Lana."  
  
"Hi… who's on the phone?"  
  
"Just Clark," Chloe responded, and continued talking to Clark himself.  
  
He hung up with Chloe soon after, and went up to his room feeling considerably better.  
  
---  
  
"So, where were you all evening?" Chloe inquired after hanging up with Clark.  
  
Lana looked up from her bowl of Frosted Flakes serial, and grinned nervously. "At Clark's. I was actually surprised you were talking to him, he was asleep when I left."  
  
Chloe shrugged and grabbed a soda from the fridge.  
  
"Chloe," Lana began hesitantly, and Chloe turned back to face her.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"There's something you should know. Clark and I… well… we're kind of…"  
  
"A couple?"  
  
Lana nodded, staring opened mouthed as Chloe came to join her at the table.  
  
"I realized last night that Clark and I will never happen," she said sadly. "And as much as that hurts, I'm just glad Clark will be happy. And you, too," she added, giving Lana a weak, but genuine smile.  
  
"Thank you so much, Chloe," Lana told her, rising and pulling Chloe into a hug.  
  
"So," Chloe said, drawing back, "he a good kisser?"  
  
Author's notes:  
I know, I know, nothing special happened in this part, but I promise, the next one will be better. I also know that this one was veeery short compared to the ones I've been putting out lately, but I wanted to get it out before I leave for my one week vacation, so that's why.  
  
I'll update with a really long part by next Saturday at the latest, okay? Beams I can almost hear you saying 'Saturday'? And I'm thrilled that you like my story so much.  
  
Before I go, I just wanted to thank you all for being so nice about my being blind and all. It really means a lot to me.  
  
Oh, and if I make any major mistakes, or small ones for that matter, please tell me! I'm beta-less if you didn't notice.  
  
Thanks again, and I'm sorry for the long wait! But my parents are forcing me to go to Hawaii with them and the rest of my brothers and sisters… I know, sounds like torture!  
  
Lala 


	7. part 6

Part 6  
  
Author's notes:  
You might recognize the first few sentences of this part, because I was originally going to make part 5 longer. However, I looked at the clock while writing, and realized it was 11:30 and I had school the next day, so I quickly ended the part, barely checking it over. Sorry!  
  
Anyway, please enjoy this part!  
  
---  
  
Clark didn't get much sleep that night, and the little he did get was filled with dreams of his rescues of Lana going terrablie wrong and he was forced to watch her die a thousand deaths, helpless to do otherwise.  
  
His father had called home around 11:30, waking Clark from a fearful dream of Lana being buried alive with Clark hanging above her, wearing her meteor rock necklace, completely vulnerable.  
  
Though Clark had been happy to hear from his father, it had confirmed Clark's suspicions that he was going to stay the night at the hospital that night with his mother.  
  
"How's mom?" Clark had asked, as he washed off the dishes he'd used for dinner. He was in no hurry to return to bed, and e didn't care what his father thought if he noticed the noise of running water and background.  
  
His father's sigh was long and filled with more than just exhaustion. "She's all right for now… but the doctors found an infection that they hadn't seen before. It caused internal bleeding, which could eventually… They're going to have to operate tomorrow, and hopefully everything will be fine… but if it's not…"  
  
He let his sentence hang in the air, and Clark felt a shiver run down his spine.  
  
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Clark said with forced cheerfulness, and ended their conversation soon after.  
  
The next morning, Clark had no idea how he made it to school.  
  
He walked down the hall, eyes barely open. The only reason he walked to his locker was out of habit, not by choice. He was exhausted and terrified all at once.  
  
He couldn't stop thinking about his mother, and his dreams had gotten worse after he'd heard the news.  
  
He struggled to open his locker, cursing under his breath when it didn't work.  
  
"Grr!" He said, hitting his locker in frustration.  
  
"Feeling a little aggressive this morning?"  
  
He turned, and came face to face with Chloe.  
  
"You could say that," he muttered, turning back to his rebellious locker. "Stupid thing!"  
  
"I told you to organize it," Chloe told him, smiling and walking off.  
  
Clark sighed, and tried once again to open his jammed door.  
  
He glared fiercely at the locker when it didn't work.  
  
"Hey, Clark, if you're not careful, you're gonna have more problems than a stuck locker… like a burnt door, for a start."  
  
Clark turned again, and came face to face with Pete.  
  
"Hey," he sighed, yanking half-heartedly at the door.  
  
Pete had left town the previous Wednesday, due to a family emergency. Clark had missed having someone to confide in about the nightmares, though he doubted he would have told Pete. Lana didn't even know, and that was saying something.  
  
"Jeez, you look terrible," Pete said, taking in Clark's full appearance.  
  
"Yeah… looong story."  
  
"You want a hand?" Pete stepped up beside him, and opened his locker easily. "Wow, you're really out of it today, aren't you. Since when do aliens get exhausted?"  
  
"That's what I was coming over here to ask, actually."  
  
Pete's face drained of all its color, as both boys looked up to see Lana, who had just walked up behind them unnoticed.  
  
"Hey, Pete, your uncle all right?" She asked casually, smiling slightly at the shocked look on his face. "Something wrong?"  
  
"Uhhhh… I… what… you… she… what…?" He directed these last 2 attempts of sentences at Clark, who grinned as well.  
  
"Pete, it's okay. Lana knows."  
  
"What… when did this happen?"  
  
Clark sighed heavily. "It's another long story."  
  
The bell rang, bringing an abrupt end to their conversation. "We have bio next, I'll explain everything," Lana suggested to Pete, and with individual good byes to one another, the 3 went their separate ways.  
  
---  
  
Pete and Clark had English right before lunch, along with Chloe. Their teacher was absent that day, and Pete was expecting a full explanation of what was wrong with Clark during the period.  
  
Though Lana had told him about how she had found out about Clark's abilities, even she didn't know why he was looking so exhausted lately. They had both agreed to ask him about it as soon as they had the chance, and with Chloe sitting in the row behind them, fully immersed in writing an article for The Torch while their teacher was reading what appeared to be a Playboy magazine, Pete figured this was a good a time as any.  
  
"So Clark," he started, after checking that the coast was clear and putting down his copy of Hamlet, which the class was currently suppose to be reading, "what's…"  
  
He stopped abruptly when he realized that Clark wasn't listening. He had his head down on the desk and appeared to be asleep.  
  
Pete shrugged and picked up his book again. He figured that Clark needed the sleep, and that he could always try to ask him about it later. Besides, he did have some catching up to do…  
  
5 minutes before the period ended, Pete had completely forgotten his book and was busy watching as two boys started a fist fight over a girl who was making out with a third, while the teacher simply continued to drool over the magazine.  
  
Suddenly their was movement from beside him, and Clark fell with a crash to the floor, sending his chair toppling on top of him, and causing half the class to look away from the fight and over to them.  
  
Pete got up, instantly concerned as well as confused. He didn't want to say Clark's name, for fear of alerting even more students, or worse the teacher, to what was going on.  
  
He gabbed Clark's chair and put it back, before turning his attention to Clark.  
  
Clark had by this time sat up, and was struggling to his feet. He looked extremely pale, and as he got up, Pete noticed that he was trembling slightly.  
  
"You okay, man?' Pete asked, sitting back down.  
  
Clark didn't respond, he simply sat back down at his desk and continued trembling, staring at the front of the room as though it were the most assonating sight he'd ever seen.  
  
Seeing that there appeared to be nothing seriously wrong with Clark, most of the students turned back to the fistfight, which was getting more and more violent, as the third boy had been pulled out of his chair and was being suspended off the ground by the other two.  
  
Though Clark soon began to slowly calm down, Pete still wasn't convinced that Clark was all right, but before he could question him further, the bell rang.  
  
The teacher was actually the first to leave the room, followed by the 3 fighting boys, and the girl, who was hand and hand with a fourth boy. The rest of the students trickled out fairly quickly, and Pete was just thinking that now as a good time to ask the still pale and shaking Clark what was going on, when Chloe was suddenly beside them.  
  
"Are you okay?" She asked Clark, who was just pulling himself unsteadily to his feet.  
  
He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Chloe reached out and put a hand to his forehead, looking concerned. As she pulled her hand back and opened her mouth to say something, Clark abruptly reached out and embraced her, cutting her sentence off.  
  
Ar-Clark," was all that came out of her mouth, as she returned the hug.  
  
Pete had expected Chloe to blush or pull away quickly, due to the fact that she was so close to Clark, but she didn't. Clark was the one to break the hug a few seconds later, and it was then that he finally spoke.  
  
"I'm fine," he said to Chloe. "I'm just not feeling so well, that's all."  
  
Chloe exchanged a glance with Pete, and he knew that she wasn't satisfied with this answer. Pete knew this was when he was suppose to say something, was suppose to jump in with some good excuse, but all he could think to say was, "anyone else hungry?" and practically bolt to the door.  
  
-  
  
Lana was slightly late for lunch, having stayed after in her last class to ask about an assignment they'd just been given. As she entered the cafeteria, she found Clark, Pete, and Chloe all sitting together.  
  
Walking up, she was about to greet them, when she heard the end of a question asked by Chloe.  
  
"…Sure you're all right?"  
  
"I'm fine," Clark responded, and Lana instantly grew concerned.  
  
"Hi, Lana!" Pete said, being the first to catch sight of her. "Did you hear about the fight during Wilson's English class? All of Liz's X's were trying to kill her current boyfriend, and she walked out with another guy!"  
  
This kind of thing was so out of character of Pete to say, that Lana couldn't help giggling slightly. Taking a seat beside Clark, she leaned over and kissed his lips briefly.  
  
During this, she got a good look at his face. He was slightly pale, and his eyes looked almost haunted. He kissed her back hard, and what had originally been a short peck on the lips lasted quite a bit longer than Lana had expected.  
  
Finally, she drew back, and glanced at Chloe who was trying her best to not act upset. She'd started a conversation about Pete and their English sub's strange behavior, which Lana didn't really pay much attention to.  
  
She ate her sandwich, and occasionally glanced worriedly at Clark, who was staring off into space, not listening to the conversation either.  
  
"What happened?" Lana asked Clark in an undertone, after making sure Pete and Chloe weren't listening.  
  
Clark didn't answer, and Lana doubted he'd even heard her question. She reached out under the table and took Clark's hand in hers.  
  
"Clark?" She asked, giving his hand a squeeze to get his attention. "Are you okay?"  
  
Clark turned to look at her, and nodded shakily. "Yeah – no – sort of," he said, taking a bite of the excuse for chicken the cafeteria had served that day.  
  
Lana was just about to ask him again what had happened, when Chloe asked her something. She continued talking to Chloe for the rest of the period, still concerned over Clark. But as it grew time for the bell to ring, Lana noticed that Clark had loosened up significantly.  
  
He and Pete were in a conversation about Hamlet, and though Clark didn't seem quite himself, the feeling of his hand still holding Lana's under the table reassured her greatly.  
  
-  
  
After school, Pete made up his mind. He was going to find out what was wrong with Clark, or die trying. Well, knowing Clark this might actually happen, but Pete shrugged this thought off and caught up with Clark before he could speed away.  
  
"What is going on with you, man?" He asked, opening the door of the school and walking out into the sunny afternoon.  
  
Clark followed him out and sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past few days.  
  
"I'm not exactly sure," he said finally, as they walked into the student parking lot.  
  
Pete was momentarily distracted from Clark, as he caught sight of the same boys from before, all trying to talk to the girl, who was in her car, blabbing into her cell phone and not seeming to notice them in the slightest.  
  
"What do you mean – whoa!" Pete turned back to Clark to see him suddenly stop walking and clam his hand over his mouth.  
  
He fell hard to his knees on the pavement, and leaned began coughing hard. Soon he started throwing up, and Pete could only watch in a state of horrified fascination.  
  
Clark drew away from the remains of the bush, panting and looking pale.  
  
"What just happened?" Was all Pete could think to ask, staring from Clark o the bush, and back to Clark?  
  
"I-I don't know," Clark said huskily, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand.  
  
"I didn't know aliens could get sick," Pete remarked, and Clark nodded his head.  
  
"Neither did I," he said, beginning to cough again, bringing up the remains of his soda, and causing Pete to grow more concerned.  
  
"Pete, there you are! I've been looking all over for you! Have you seen… whoa!"  
  
Clark sat on the ground, panting. He'd never felt quite like this before, and he was confused as to why it was happening now. It was sort of how he felt when he was around green Kryptonite, but he'd never experienced throwing up before.  
  
Abruptly, he felt a hand come to rest on his back. Looking up, he saw Chloe standing over him, looking worried.  
  
"Oh no," he said, trying to lighten the mood, "I can see the headline in the next issue of The Torch: student destroys rhododendron bush by barfing all over it."  
  
"Actually, I was thinking of 'Cafeteria food gives student food poisoning," Chloe said, managing a small smile.  
  
"I told you I wasn't feeling well," Clark told her, rising slowly to his feet. He glanced down at the bush, and his eyes widened in surprise. "I take it vomit and plants don't mix."  
  
"I was coming over here to ask if either of you wanted a ride, but I've got my answer," Chloe said, sliding a supportive arm around Clark's shoulders. "Come on, you."  
  
As they were walking over to Chloe's car, a brunette suddenly came walking towards them.  
  
Lana looked from Chloe, Clark, and Pete, to the direction they'd come from, then back to the trio with some confusion. They'd apparently been standing next to what had previously been a bush, but now looked like a pile of shriveled up leaves. Still very confused, Lana continued walking towards the other 3 teens.  
  
"Hey, guys," she said, falling into step beside them. She gave Chloe and Clark a strange look, wondering why on earth Chloe had her arm around Clark. When she saw how pale was, any feelings of jealousy instantly disappeared.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Well," Clark started, then trailed off. His head hurt too much to think, let alone make up a coherent sentence.  
  
"Clark pewked all over the rhododendron bush," Chloe said bluntly, and Lana's eyes widened with concern and surprise.  
  
-  
  
The ride from school to the Kent's was mostly silent. Pete sat in front with Chloe, while Clark and Lana sat in the back. Chloe had made a few attempts at conversation, but Clark was in no mood to talk, and Lana and Pete were too worried to say much.  
  
"Thanks for the ride, Chloe," Clark said as they pulled up in front of his house. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," he said to the car at large as he opened the door, and rose on shaky legs.  
  
All three turned to protest, but before any of them could so much as open their mouths, Clark had struggled out of the car, and up the porch steps.  
  
-  
  
Clark walked inside his house and collapsed on the couch. He felt the feeling of bile rising in his throat, but he wasn't sure if he could move.  
  
His head pounded, and he felt sweat rising all over his trembling body.  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
Something was terribly wrong.  
  
When Clark had gotten out of the car, he knew that Chloe and Pete would protest, and that Lana would most likely follow him inside no matter what he said, so he'd tried to super speed inside.  
  
But he hadn't even managed a jog.  
  
His powers were gone, which no doubt meant that he was susceptible to a human virus.  
  
Something told him that his powers were gone from his lack of sleep. He hadn't slept well in over a week, and if he didn't get some sleep soon, he was afraid what could happen.  
  
Abruptly, he felt himself rising from the couch. He walked out the door, and to the storm cellar. Within in a few moments, he was kneeling beside his spaceship, running sweaty hands over its metallic surface.  
  
It had helped him rescue Lana, and it had cured both he and his mother from dying. Could it help him with this?  
  
The ship suddenly began to glow, but instead of feeling rejuvenated, Clark fell back, unconscious.  
  
Unknown to him, the light coming off the ship was the exact color as the green meteor rocks.  
  
Author's notes:  
At last, I have thought of a title! As you can see, it's not very good, but it's better than nothing, right?  
  
Anyways, if the last few sections of this part are especially out of character, forgive me. I was kinda hyper and sleep deprived when I wrote this… and part the reason I made Clark sick was because I was sick myself.  
  
Anyways, I could have sworn there was something else I had to say… guess not. Well, feedback would be loved, as well as your opinion on how this fic is going.  
  
Thanks a lot. 


	8. part 7

Part 7  
  
Chloe dropped Pete off, and then drove back to her house. Lana walked inside, slightly behind her, her mind staying in the car and traveling back to the Kent's, and to Clark.  
  
"I've never seen Clark sick before," Chloe commented, taking out an apple and beginning to cut it into slices.  
  
"Me neither," Lana said, sitting down at the table. "It's kind of scary."  
  
Chloe turned to look at her with a strange expression. "I know we've always sort of thought of Clark as sort of invincible, but he is only human…"  
  
"Yeah," Lana murmured, getting up and beginning to pace restlessly around the kitchen.  
  
Clark had looked so pale and exhausted, and thinking back to earlier that day at lunch, Lana's worry grew even more. Why hadn't she noticed something then?  
  
Was this what Clark had to go through every day? Always worrying about some new problem? She didn't know how he could stand it, and was happy that at least now she was there to help him share some of the burden he carried.  
  
Suddenly she remembered with a jolt that Clark's parents weren't home. How stupid of her, she hadn't even asked about how Martha was today. Poor Clark was all by himself, running a fever and probably feeling miserable, and Lana was standing in her kitchen, doing nothing about it.  
  
Abruptly she walked over to the cupboard and opened it, only feeling slightly rude for opening someone else's cupboard. She lived here too, she reminded herself, before rummaging around inside.  
  
"What are you looking for?" Chloe inquired, walking over to Lana.  
  
"Do you have any soup?" Lana asked, before spotting some soup behind a can of peaches.  
  
She grabbed it and closed the cupboard, turning to head out the door. "I'm going to go see if Clark is up for eating anything." She stopped abruptly, frowning slightly. "Chloe… would you mind taking my shift at the Talon tonight? I want to stay and help Clark… since his parents aren't home and all. You can keep the tips…"  
  
At Chloe's nod, Lana sighed in relief. "Thanks a lot," she said, beginning to walk again.  
  
"Give him a hug for me," Chloe said wistfully, and walked upstairs.  
  
---  
  
Clark came to sometime later, to find himself lying on the floor of the storm cellar, a few feet away from his Spaceship. The light had dissipated, and it looked perfectly normal now, but Clark couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen some green light jus before he'd passed out…  
  
"That, was weird," he mumbled, staring at his spaceship. Had it knocked him out? Or had he just passed out from being sick?  
  
Slowly, he struggled into a sitting position, feeling waves of nausea washing over him as he did so. He groaned softly, as the world seemed to come in and out of focus.  
  
After a few moments, he managed to get to his feet. He seriously thought he might lose it and throw up right there, but he didn't. He managed to make it up the stairs, out the door and halfway across the field before he fell to his knees and threw up in the grass.  
  
"Oh, Dad is going to love that," he muttered, wiping a shaking hand across his mouth and getting up again.  
  
He made it into the house and fell once again onto the couch. He was getting worse, he could feel it.  
  
The house was freezing, he thought suddenly. Didn't they have any blankets down here? Just then, there was a knock on the door.  
  
Clark contemplated ignoring it, but the knocking continued again after a pause, and he thought he detected someone calling his name.  
  
"Lana?" He said aloud, his eyes glinting feverishly.  
  
Stumbling to his feet, he walked to the door and opened it. To his surprise, Lana was indeed standing there.  
  
"I thought you might like some soup," she said, walking inside. "Are you okay?"  
  
In response to her question, Clark felt his knees start shaking. He stumbled slightly, beginning to cough.  
  
He managed to get back to the living room, with Lana following close behind. He fell onto the couch, and watched through half closed eyes as Lana came to stand over him.  
  
He felt her cool hand come to rest on his forehead, and her touch seemed to relax him.  
  
"You're burning up," Lana exclaimed, walking out of the room.  
  
"Where are you going?" Clark asked, alarmed. She wasn't going to leave him, was she? He didn't want to be alone… he wanted to curl up in her arms and sleep until he felt all right again.  
  
Lana turned back, and looked at Clark, shivering as he huddled on the couch. She walked back over to him, and kissed his cheek.  
  
"Don't worry Clark, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going to get a wet washcloth. It should help bring down your fever."  
  
"Okay," Clark said sleepily.  
  
The next few minutes only seemed to be half real. He watched Lana leave, and could faintly hear her looking through the bathroom. Suddenly she was back, her fingers running through his sweaty hair.  
  
She gently placed a cool washcloth on his forehead, and stroked his hair soothingly.  
  
"You must feel terrible," she said quietly, after seeing that he was still awake.  
  
"I've been better," Clark admitted, moving over slightly to make room for Lana. She slid onto the couch beside him, and he reached out, needing some kind of contact with her. He was just so cold… Her slightest seemed to warm him somehow.  
  
"Do you want anything to eat?" She asked, watching his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to stay awake.  
  
"I never want to see food ever again," he said, attempting a smile, which came out more like a grimace.  
  
Lana nodded, and neither spoke for a time. Clark's eyes closed, and he was close to sleep, when he suddenly jerked, eyes opening quickly.  
  
"Clark, it's okay. Go to sleep, I'll stay with you," Lana reassured him, running her thumb over the back of his hand in an attempt to calm him down.  
  
"No," Clark said, voice small and frightened. He couldn't think straight, and he was so tired…  
  
"Why not?" Lana asked in surprise, confused.  
  
"Because of the nightmares," Clark mumbled thickly, and despite his efforts, his eyes closed and he was instantly asleep.  
  
Lana blinked in surprise, watching Clark with both confusion and concern. She didn't try to get up, or even dare to move very much, fearing that her actions would wake Clark.  
  
About an hour later, Lana tentatively removed the washcloth from Clark's forehead. She was unsure if this would disturb him or not, but seeing that it hadn't, she slowly got up, walked into the bathroom and ran more water on the washcloth, which had dried considerably from being pressed up against Clark's warm skin.  
  
While she was there, Lana found the thermometer and brought it back to the living room with her.  
  
She placed the washcloth back on Clark's forehead, and he stirred slightly, expression troubled.  
  
Clark's last few words came back to her, and she frowned.  
  
'Because of the nightmares…'  
  
Was Clark having some kind of nightmare? Suddenly, the peaces began to fit themselves together in Lana's head.  
  
Clark had been looking really tired lately, and the few times she'd seen him asleep, he'd seemed troubled and cried out a few times. Wait a minute. The night before, when Clark had been asleep, he'd seemed fine. That wasn't because of her, was it?  
  
Lana's cheeks turned crimsoned, and she instinctively ducked her head, though no one was able to see her.  
  
A whimper filled the silence of the living room, and Lana looked back at Clark with concern.  
  
He had curled up, his knees pulled up to his chest, and he was trembling slightly. His cheeks were flushed from his fever, and she could tell he was getting worse.  
  
Lana tentatively sat back down beside Clark, reaching out and placing a calming hand on his back. If she were right in thinking that her touch somehow seemed to help Clark, than she would try everything in her power to help him.  
  
"Shh," she whispered, rubbing his back soothingly. "It's okay, Clark. Relax, everything's all right."  
  
She bent down, and ignoring the fact that it might be possible for her to catch whatever virus Clark had, and kissed his cheek gently.  
  
Slowly, she saw Clark begin to relax. He slowly moved closer to Lana, and she gently lifted his head until it was resting in her lap. She sat with him, reading one of Martha's magazines and worrying.  
  
---  
  
Clark awoke to a pounding headache and the most beautiful girl in the world looking down at him.  
  
His head was somehow resting in her lap, and her hand was running through his hair as she absently read a magazine.  
  
"How do you feel?" She asked, somehow getting off the couch.  
  
"A little better," Clark admitted, trying to remember when Lana had come over. He dimly remembered letting her in, and not wanting her to leave… there was more he knew, but just what that was he couldn't remember.  
  
Lana walked into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. Clark sat up slowly, and took the glass from her.  
  
Just the feeling of the cold water made him begin to shiver, and Lana disappeared again, returning with a blanket and rapping it gently around his shoulders.  
  
"Don't you have work?" Clark asked, sipping at the icy water. He didn't want her to lose her job over him, but he also didn't want to be alone…  
  
"Nope," Lana said, seeming to read Clark's thoughts. "Chloe's covering for me."  
  
Clark managed a small smile and moved over to make room for Lana on the couch.  
  
"Lay down," she ordered, taking the half empty water glass from him.  
  
Clark complied, and Lana pulled out the thermometer  
  
"Now, I have no idea what your normal temperature is, so just stick this in your mouth and we'll go from there," she directed, putting in Clark's sweaty hands.  
  
A few moments later the devise beeped, positioned at 100.2 degrees.  
  
"Pretty high," Lana commented, laying the blanket over Clark and tucking it around his shoulders. "Just try to sleep it off, okay?"  
  
She turned to go somewhere, but Clark caught her hand. "Stay?" He asked quietly, both from exhaustion and shyness.  
  
"Of course," she reassured him, sitting back down.  
  
Clark tried to sleep, but fear of his nightmares kept him from doing so. He would let his eyes close, then force them back open with some effort.  
  
"Clark," Lana asked after watching him do this a few times. "Do you remember what you said to me just before you went to sleep?"  
  
Clark thought hard, but couldn't think of it. "No," he said, looking up at her.  
  
"You said you were afraid to go to sleep," Lana told him. "And when I asked why, you said because of the nightmares… What's going on, Clark?"  
  
Clark almost denied he was having any nightmares. He was on the verge of saying he was delirious, that he'd just said that for no reason, but looking into Lana's eyes, he knew he couldn't lie to her. Not anymore. Even if he'd wanted to, he doubted it was possible  
  
"Lana," he began tentatively, reaching once more for her hand. "Lately, I've been having… strange dreams. They're about different things… but lately they've been about my mom… and you… dying…"  
  
Lana tried to think of a logical explanation for this. "Well… Clark, you've been through a lot lately," she reasoned, smoothing his hair. "And your mom… well, your mom's in the hospital. Maybe you're just stressed…"  
  
But Clark shook his head. "That's not all," he said, growing sleepier all the time. Lana's fingers were so soft… and gentle… "When I'm touching you… they stop… and I can't sleep without you… and I think… I think… it's killing me…"  
  
His eyes closed, and for a terror-filled second, Lana thought that he was dead. But then she could hear his steady breathing, and from his relaxed expression, she knew he'd just fallen asleep again.  
  
She clung to his hand, fear clear in her eyes. These nightmares were killing Clark? Clark couldn't die… she couldn't go on with out him.  
  
She'd do everything she could to help him, and maybe this time it would be her turn to be the hero.  
  
Maybe she could finally begin to pay Clark back for saving her life all the times he had.  
  
Maybe, for once in her life, Lana Lang could stop being the damsel in distress, and become the knight in shining armor.  
  
Maybe, just maybe, she could save her prince.  
  
---  
  
"Clark… Clark… Clark…"  
  
Lana trailed feather light kisses over Clark's lips and cheeks, murmuring his name in a quiet singsong tone as she did so.  
  
His eyes fluttered open, just as Lana's lips touched his.  
  
He mumbled something incoherently, and reached out, putting his arm loosely around Lana's waste and attempting to pull her down beside him, still half asleep.  
  
A gentle smile played across Lana's lips, as she pulled Clark's arm off her, and shook him lightly.  
  
"Come on, Clark, wake up."  
  
Again his eyes opened, and he blinked sleepily up at her.  
  
"Lana? What…"  
  
"It's 10:30," she told him, hiding a grin as he yawned widely, "I've gotta go soon."  
  
She hadn't wanted to wake him, he'd looked so peaceful sleeping, but she figured that it was better if she woke him up now, instead of leaving and having him wake up from some dream to an empty house.  
  
"Oh," Clark said, trying to hide his disappointment. "Okay… Thanks a lot for coming over."  
  
She kissed him on his forehead, and ruffled his already messy hair. "Anytime, Clark. Anytime."  
  
---  
  
Clark walked Lana out to her car, despite all her protests that he was sick and should stay inside. She ordered him not to go to school the next day, and she'd stop by afterwards to check on him.  
  
Clark walked back inside just as the answering machine clicked on. His father's voice filled the kitchen, and Clark froze, listening intently.  
  
"Clark, I'm sorry to be calling so late, but I… Your mother got out of surgery a few hours ago… but she never woke up…"  
  
Clark literally felt the blood drain from his face.  
  
Was… was his mother dead?  
  
No.  
  
No, he wouldn't believe it.  
  
It couldn't be possible.  
  
His father continued speaking in a choked tone, and Clark hung on his every word.  
  
"…The doctors aren't sure, but they think she slipped into a coma. They… they don't know what to do except wait…"  
  
His father continued speaking, but his words fell on deaf ears.  
  
His mother wasn't dead.  
  
There was still time.  
  
There was still time for Clark to save her.  
  
Somehow, he would save her.  
  
He had to.  
  
In a flash, Clark thought back to that afternoon, and the incident with the spaceship.  
  
It had knocked him out, he was sure now.  
  
Was it possible that as the light had affected him, it had in turn affected his mother's surgery somehow?  
  
He tried to think. What did he and his mom have in common tat his dad didn't?  
  
With a jolt, he suddenly remembered the strange sickness he and his mother had both had a few weeks before.  
  
They'd got it down in the storm cellar, where the spaceship had been.  
  
Was it possible that the dust had somehow damaged the spaceship too? When the spaceship had supposedly healed them, had the exposure to the dust damaged their bodies, and was now killing them slowly?  
  
Suddenly, another realization came to Clark.  
  
In order to save his mother, to save himself, he would have to destroy his spaceship.  
  
He would have to destroy his only link to his home planet, in order to save his mother.  
  
But he would have to realize that he would most likely never be able to see his real mother.  
  
He would never be able to be with people of his own kind, or get the answers he was desperately seeking.  
  
But he would have to destroy it, or he himself, along with his mother would be.  
  
For his mother, and for Lana he would do it.  
  
Author's notes:  
Sorry for the long wait! I tried to make this long, hoped that makes up for it.  
  
This fic will only have a few more parts, but I'm already planning a sequel, so don't worry.  
  
Please review with any and all feedback! 


	9. part 8

Part 8  
  
His hands closed around the ship, and he squeezed hard. The ship cracked, splintering into thousands of peaces under his strong fingers.  
  
His hands were suddenly drenched in a thick liquid. Confused, he looked down.  
  
Instantly he wished he hadn't. His eyes widened, and his blood ran cold, as the terrible realization hit him like a slap in the face.  
  
The ship was gone, and in its place was Lana's mangled body, unmistakably dead.  
  
He'd killed her.  
  
"NNNOOO!!!"  
  
---  
  
"NNNOOO!!!"  
The scream made her shudder, and step back slightly. She stood outside the Kent household, poised to go in.  
  
"Clark," she said under her breath, and then louder as she tried the door and walked inside, "Clark?!"  
  
No response, save for another moan of "Nnnooo."  
  
"Clark," she said, walking into the living room, "Clark!"  
  
He was huddled on the couch, tears sliding down his cheeks, body trembling. An expression of pure terror was etched across his face, and he was whimpering softly.  
  
"Shhh," she soothed, dropping to her knees beside the couch and stroking his hair. "Clark, it's okay."  
  
His eyes opened and he stared blankly up at her, before recognition crossed his face.  
  
"Lana," he said in a broken voice, "oh, Lana."  
  
He sat up and flung his arms around Lana, tears dripping into her hair.  
  
He held her and cried for a few minutes, trying to erase the image of her dead body and trying to put the feeling of Lana's arms around him, of her fingers gently wiping at his tears, and her gentle voice talking softly to him in it's place.  
  
"Shh, it was just a dream, Clark. It's okay, I'm here now. Shh…" Her lips grazed Clark's wet cheek, kissing away the tears.  
  
Slowly, Clark began to calm down. His tears subsided, and though his hold loosened slightly on Lana, he did not fully let go of her.  
  
"I-I'm sorry, Lana," he told her shakily. "I-I'm just… I…"  
  
"Clark, it's okay," she reassured him, rubbing his back soothingly. "You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm just glad you're okay, now."  
  
He nodded and finally let go of her. He laid back down on the couch, and Lana sat beside him, covering them both with the blanket that Clark had knocked to the floor during his nightmare.  
  
Clark glanced over at the clock, which read 4:15. Lana's shift started at 6:30, so he had just under 2 hours with her.  
  
He had stayed awake most of the night, thinking about the spaceship. He knew he needed sleep, but he was terrified to allow himself to.  
  
He'd fallen asleep sometime that morning and his dreams had all been similar, now melding into a blur of pain, terror, and despair.  
  
"How was school?" Clark asked, suddenly feeling awkward. He wanted desperately to change the subject.  
  
"Okay," Lana replied, watching him with both concern and compassion, "we got our English essays back. Oh and, I told Mrs. Letrelle you were sick."  
  
He grinned. "This is definitely a first. I don't think I've missed a day of school in my life except for that whole sickness thing a couple of weeks ago."  
  
Thinking about the sickness made Clark think of his mother, and then of the spaceship.  
  
He wondered if he should tell Lana about it, but decided not to. He couldn't, not just yet.  
  
"Are you feeling any better today?" Lana inquired, getting up.  
  
"My headache has gone from a stabbing pain to a minimal throbbing," he said, forcing a weak grin.  
  
"That's good," Lana said, walking into the kitchen. "Have you eaten anything today?"  
  
"No," he said, "I've barely moved."  
  
"You should really eat something," Lana said, and he heard her opening cupboards. "How's chicken soup?"  
  
"Mm good," Clark deadpanned, and Lana rolled her eyes.  
  
"Good! It'll be ready in 10 minutes."  
  
"You want any help?"  
  
"Nope. Just stay there and relax."  
  
He closed his eyes and it seemed only a few seconds had passed when he could suddenly smell soup very close to him.  
  
"You awake?" Lana asked softly, and he opened his eyes.  
  
"Yeah… smells good," he mumbled, sitting up.  
  
The by now familiar nausea washed over him and he grimaced, waiting for it to pass.  
  
"Are you all right?" Lana asked, handing him the soup.  
  
"Yeah," he replied, taking a small bite.  
Lana sat back down next to him, and he managed to eat about a fourth of the bowl before he was both too exhausted and grossed out to continue.  
  
"I'll put it in the fridge for later," Lana said, taking the bowl back and rising.  
  
Clark nodded and laid back down, shivering.  
  
Lana came back and held out the thermometer. After checking his temperature, which had dropped only slightly to exactly 100 degrees, Lana sat with him for a while.  
  
Clark wanted to sleep, but also was terrified to do so. Even though Lana was sitting next to him, with her hand gently holding his, he was still scared.  
  
"How's your mom, Clark?" Lana asked unexpectedly.  
  
Clark sighed. He hadn't told anyone about Martha ever since he'd found out, but he figured now was as good a time as any.  
  
"Not good," he said quietly. "She had surgery yesterday, but… but she never woke up from it. The doctors say she slipped into a coma."  
  
Lana's eyes widened. "Clark, that's terrible. I-I'm so sorry…"  
  
He sighed. "I know… thanks. I'm going to go visit her tonight and try to convince my dad to come home."  
  
"You're going to go visit her while you're sick?" Lana inquired, shocked. "Clark I know you're worried, but do you really think that's…"  
  
"I don't think I'll be sick anymore when I go," he told her, a deep sadness coming into his voice. "If I'm right, I'll come by The Talon, all right?"  
  
Lana nodded, and neither spoke for a time. Clark finally fell asleep and despite the fact Lana was there, Clark's dreams were far from pleasant.  
  
---  
  
He stumbled into the storm cellar later that evening, his legs barely supporting him.  
  
Lana had left about a half an hour ago, and after she'd gone he'd convinced himself for the last time that this had to be done.  
  
What was more important to him, his mother or a link to his past?  
  
The answer was obvious, but he was still dreading it.  
  
Sighing heavily, he walked over to his spaceship. He placed his hand against it, wondering for a moment if it would knock him out again.  
  
Half of him hoped it would, so he wouldn't have to go through with it.  
  
It didn't, and he picked the ship up with ease.  
  
Just like in his dream he held it in between his hands and began to squeeze.  
  
His touch was light at first but slowly it grew stronger until he felt it begin to crack.  
  
His body began to tremble, but he forced himself to keep pushing. The metal bent under his fingers, and he forced himself to push harder, his mind seeming to yell at him to stop.  
  
Stop! Stop killing us!  
  
It was now an actual voice screaming at him.  
  
"I'm sorry," he moaned allowed, eyes watering.  
  
Please, have mercy! Save us! You are not meant to rule over us!  
  
"I have to do this," he said desperately, not grasping the meaning of their last few words. "I have to!"  
  
Peaces began to crack off slowly, and every fiber of his being screamed at him to stop.  
  
Then it was as though the ship itself was screaming in protest.  
  
The cracking grew louder, as the ship slowly caved inwards.  
  
Clark wished desperately that he had his powers. This was taking far too long for his liking.  
  
NNNOOO!!! PLEASE, STOOOOOP!!  
  
It was almost a physical pain to hear the disembodied voice.  
  
"I must do it," he said, voice somehow calm. "For my mother… for me… for Lana… I'm sorry… Oh, I am so sorry…"  
  
Aaahhh!!!  
  
He pushed harder, body shaking violently.  
  
It was breaking little by little, and a strange glow came from the ship. Dust floated up from the deformed object, and Clark coughed violently.  
  
He struggled not to breathe it in, body growing weaker from lack of oxygen.  
  
Was it the meteor dust? He couldn't be sure, but he didn't want to take any chances.  
  
Maybe the ship would kill him too. But he would destroy it, for his mother.  
  
"Kill me," he breathed, still being sure to push hard on the object. "But Let my mother live… and please, let Lana be happy…"  
  
We forgive you.  
  
The voice was so soft Clark didn't hear. But he certainly felt the dust cloud begin to dissipate.  
  
He aloud the breath to leave his lungs, panting hard.  
  
The glow slowly disappeared as well, and it was so abrupt it took Clark by surprise.  
  
The ship let out a loud crunch, before breaking into several peaces.  
  
Clark fell backwards, dropping the peaces. He stared at the remains of his spaceship, as he lay motionless on the floor.  
  
He breathed deeply, and watched in horror as the ship disintegrated entirely.  
  
It was gone, there was now no way he could somehow put it back together.  
  
He rose and walked from the storm cellar.  
  
The night breeze was cool against his face, relaxing his tense body.  
  
He walked to the hospital not even realizing how he got there. All he could see was himself breaking the ship.  
  
He didn't force the images away, he felt that he deserved the pain they caused.  
  
When he seemed to come out of his dazed state, he looked up and realized just where he was. Sighing, he walked inside, not even caring that his clothes were dusty and that he looked half dead.  
  
"I'm here to see Martha Kent," he said quietly to the nurse. She looked at him with worry.  
  
"Are you all right young man?" She took in his haggard appearance, concern shining in her mothering brown eyes.  
  
"Yes," Clark said too quickly, but the nurse didn't press him.  
  
"Room 128," she told Clark, and he hurried away.  
  
---  
  
His father was asleep on the empty bed across the room from Martha's when Clark entered. He looked similar to Clark, though without the dust.  
  
Clark sat down in the chair beside the bed and looked down at his frail mother.  
  
She looked so small lying under the white sheets, her body hooked up to tubes and machines of all kinds. The constant beeping that normally drove Clark crazy now reassured him. It meant she was still alive, that his sacrifice hadn't been in vane.  
  
He reached out, taking her limp hand in his. "Hi, Mom," he whispered. "You're going to be okay now… I fixed everything. I-I destroyed the spaceship, mom. I-I destroyed my Spaceship."  
  
He said the words, but didn't seem to hear them. He fell silent and just sat with her for a few Minutes, clinging to her hand. The minutes turned to hours, but Clark didn't notice.  
  
He simply sat, staring at his mother, not letting himself think.  
  
"Excuse me, young man? It's 10:00, visiting hours are now over."  
  
Clark knew that if he'd wanted to, he could tell the nurse who had just entered that he was a family member, but he suddenly didn't want to stay anymore.  
  
He nodded and walked out of the room and then left the hospital.  
  
The night was clear and warm, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves.  
  
He looked upwards, taking in the star-filled sky.  
  
The star-filled sky where he'd come from.  
  
The sky that he would never be able to see ever again.  
  
Because he'd destroyed his spaceship  
  
He'd destroyed his spaceship.  
  
It seemed to hit him like a slap in the face.  
  
He stumbled slightly, only now seeming to realize.  
  
He could almost feel it sinking in, and for the second time that day felt the tears forming, hot and painful behind his eyes.  
  
He walked for a time, barely noticing where he was going.  
  
"Get a grip, Kent," he muttered under his breath. He had survived, he should be glad about that.  
  
He turned down a street, wondering how he would get home. Where was he, anyway?  
  
Suddenly, he saw the Talon looming in front of him. It closed at 11, and he guest that it was now 10:30.  
  
Walking inside, he saw that it was nearly deserted. His eyes found Lana almost instantly, standing near a table, talking to someone.  
  
Lana walked away, Clark saw that the person was Lex.  
  
"Hi, Clark," Lex said, looking up and seeing him. "Going for the rugged look to impress ms. Lang this time?"  
  
Clark looked down, and attempted a smile. "Something like that," he mumbled.  
  
"Clark! What are you doing here?" Lana, having heard Clark's voice, had turned back from where she had been saying goodbye to another customer.  
  
She took in his appearance, and instantly grew concerned. Lex smiled and got up.  
  
"I'll leave you two alone… thanks for the coffee, Lana." He pulled out his wallet and absently dropped a $20 on the table, not seeming to care that he'd given her an extremely large tip.  
  
Clark watched him go, willing to look anywhere but at Lana.  
  
The Talon was now completely deserted, meaning that there was no excuse for Lana to have to rush off.  
  
He was going to have to tell her, and soon.  
  
"Shouldn't you be home resting?" Her eyes almost seemed to be drilling holes into him. He could practically feel her stare.  
  
"I-I don't think I'm sick anymore," he said quietly.  
  
"What? What do you mean?" She reached out and touched his face, tilting his chin gently upwards.  
  
He had no choice but to look at her now.  
  
"I-I realized something last night," he began unsteadily. "Something about my mom and I. We were both sick from the meteor dust… and I think the ship was exposed to it too and was damaged somehow. I think when it healed us with the light; it somehow hurt us as well. I thought i… I thought if the ship was destroyed, then maybe…. Maybe we would get well."  
  
Realization dawned on Lana's face, and her eyes widened in both surprise and concern. "Clark, are you saying…"  
  
He nodded. "I had no other choice," he whispered huskily, "I didn't want to… but I knew I had to. For my mom… for me… but mostly for you."  
  
"For me?"  
  
"I didn't want you to be in anymore pain… I… I think I love you, Lana."  
  
He reached for her abruptly, pulling her into his arms. She returned his embrace instantly, smelling of coffee and lavender.  
  
"I love you too, Clark," she said into his chest, and he leaned down, kissing her gently.  
  
The kiss was long and deep, neither wanting the moment to end. Clark pulled her closer, craving her touch. He needed her right now, more than ever. He didn't realize he was crying until he felt Lana pull away from him slightly.  
  
Her hand cupped his face, her fingers gently wiping the tears away for the second time that day. Normally he would have been embarrassed to be crying in front of her, but he was just too upset to care.  
  
Lana tightened her hold around him, continuing to wipe his tears with the pads of her thumbs.  
  
This act of sensitivity only caused the tears to come faster. Lana reached out, pulling Clark's head down on her shoulder, muffling his barely inaudible sobs completely.  
  
They stood, holding one another for quite sometime, Lana trying her best to comfort Clark.  
  
At last, Clark began to calm down. His tears slowly stopped, his sobs quieting and his body slowly relaxing, the sobs that had shook them both fading.  
  
He pulled back from Lana reluctantly, still holding her loosely around the shoulders, the warmth of her skin seeming to warm his very soul.  
  
He met her eyes with his watery ones, and they stared at each other in silence for a few moments, unaware that they were drawing closer to each other once again.  
  
Suddenly their lips were touching in a sweet kiss. It was a short kiss, without their usual passion, but the emotions behind it were so strong that it almost felt as though they were being electrocuted.  
  
The kiss ended only after a few seconds. They stood a few feet from one another, panting as though they'd just run a marathon.  
  
"C-could I walk you home?" Clark asked after a few minutes, voice still slightly unsteady.  
  
"Of course," Lana replied, linking her hand with his.  
  
No words were needed as the couple walked to the door and Lana locked it behind them, not bothering to clean up.  
  
They walked to the Sullivan house in silence, and as they stepped up onto the porch and shared one last kiss, the stars seemed to shine even more brightly than usual. The moon, which had previously been hidden by clouds, emerged, casting an almost angelic glow over the couple as they kissed tenderly.  
  
"Call if you need me," Lana breathed as she finally turned to go inside, "love you."  
  
"Love you too," Clark replied in a tone just as light, watching as she opened the door and disappeared inside, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth.  
  
Clark was about to leave when the door opened again.  
  
"Hey," said Chloe's familiar voice. She stepped out onto the porch, in sweatpants and a slightly too small t-shirt.  
  
Her hair, still damp from her shower, moved slightly around her face as a small breeze came upon them almost silently.  
  
"How are you feeling?" He could smell her toothpaste, and the coconut shampoo Lana sometimes used.  
  
"I'll be okay," he answered honestly, and she ruffled his hair affectionately.  
  
"That's good," she said, giving him a warm smile.  
  
He tried to reciprocate, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.  
  
"Well, I'm sure you're tired," Chloe said after a pause. "I just wanted to say good night."  
  
"Good night, Chloe," he said softly.  
  
"Night, Clark," she responded. She was about to go inside when he reached out and touched her arm.  
  
She turned back to face him, confused.  
  
"Clark, what-" Clark kissed her softly on the cheek, and her eyes widened. "What… what was that for?"  
  
"Just because," he told her, and smiled.  
  
This time, it did reach his eyes.  
  
"I want you to know how important your friendship is to me. I…I love you, Chloe."  
  
Chloe wasn't used to this much sentimentality from Clark, and wasn't quite sure how to reply. "I-I love you too, Clark," she said, smiling shyly. "Is… is anything wrong? I mean, you're not usually this mushy. You're not delirious or anything, are you?"  
  
"I don't think so," he said, and turned to leave. "I just realized how…how much my family and friends mean to me."  
  
She remained silent, waiting to see if he would continue or not.  
  
"Well… good night, Chloe."  
  
"Good night, Clark."  
  
And with that, he turned and walked away, feet moving almost silently the wooden planks and down the steps.  
  
Chloe stared after him for a few seconds, somewhat puzzled. Shrugging, she chalked it up to Clark's usual strangeness, and went back inside.  
  
-  
  
"Clark!" The voice assaulted him as soon as he walked through the door. "Clark," said his father's voice, slightly more calm, "I'm sorry if I woke you son – but it's your mother! She's woken up, Clark! She's woken up! She's perfectly fine… it must have been some kind of miracle!"  
  
His father's voice cracked with emotion, and Clark picked up the phone.  
  
"Hey, Dad!" He said, relief flowing through him. "That's great!"  
  
Jonathon agreed, and informed Clark that if everything were in fact all right that they would be coming home the next morning.  
  
They hung up, and Clark walked up to his room, a small smile on his lips.  
  
Things were slowly becoming all right again.  
  
His mother was all right again, and he assumed he was as well.  
  
But the best thing than had happened was Lana.  
  
He loved her, a feeling, which he knew, she returned.  
  
He'd seen it in her eyes for months, he'd just been too afraid to even consider that it was possible.  
  
But it was.  
  
And he felt that he could finally be happy.  
  
He curled up on his bed, not even bothering to get under the covers.  
  
Opening a nightstand drawer, Clark rummaged around inside.  
  
Finding what he was looking for, he pulled it out, holding it almost reverently to his chest.  
Closing the drawer, he placed Lana's picture on the pillow beside him, and gazed at her pretty smile.  
  
Just the sight of her calmed him and he fell asleep quickly, happy for the first time inn weeks.  
  
He slept for hours, hopefully rejuvenating him completely.  
  
Because this would be the only decent night's sleep he'd get for quite sometime.  
  
But Clark had no idea of this.  
  
He was finally at peace.  
  
A smile formed on his lips, as he ran a hand over the picture in his sleep.  
  
From across the room, just outside the window, another figure smiled, but for a different reason.  
  
"I've found you at last," the figure said, voice barely a whisper.  
  
Clark shuddered slightly as the voice spoke, but relaxed again as soon as it had stopped.  
  
He was safe, for the time being.  
  
The figure smiled and glided silently away, laughing silently.  
  
Author's notes:  
I couldn't think of an ending for this part, sorry it dragged on! I wasn't going to have the figure show up until the epilogue or maybe the sequel, but I needed a foreshadowing end… guess it didn't happen, but whatever.  
  
The epilogue will be up soon, I swear. No more monthly updates, I swear! And it might seem familiar to some of you, but that's intentional. I'll explain everything in due time… for now, jus give me feedback, please.  
  
Thankies! 


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue  
Warning: Slight spoilers for eps already shown in the US  
  
The following Saturday morning dawned brightly, being rather warm for Late February. The sun streamed in through Lana's window, bedroom waking her much too early for her liking. She was normally a morning person, but last night she'd been out late on her first real date with Clark, so it was with many annoyed mumblings that she got out of bed to close the curtains.  
  
Just as she was snuggling back under the covers, the white and brown teddy bear Clark had given her the night before along with a dozen roses on the pillow beside her, she heard loud noises coming through the wall that connected her room with Chloe's.  
  
She moaned, and put her 'Clarky bear' - a name that greatly embarrassed Clark - over her head to muffle the sounds.  
  
It seemed to work for a time, but then she heard a drawer slam.  
  
"Chloe, shut up!" She yelled, removing the bear and hitting the wall with it in frustration. Chloe, the exact opposite of Lana, usually didn't get up until at least 10:30 on Saturday's if she had nothing planned.  
  
Instead of responding to Lana, Chloe's bedroom door opened, slamming against the wall. Seconds later Lana's own door was flung open.  
  
"Lana, Lana!" Chloe bounded in, digital camera in hand. "You've got to see this!"  
  
She was acting as though Christmas had come early, and Lana knew that could only mean one thing.  
  
"Chloe, I it's too early to hear about the newest meteor freak," she complained sleepily, moving away from the light coming through the half open door.  
  
"No, no," Chloe tried to explain, "it's not a meteor freak, at least, not from what I saw, it's Clark!"  
  
Lana was instantly fully awake.  
  
"Clark?"  
  
"Yeah! I got up to go to the bathroom, and happened to glance out my window on the way back to bed. He's out on our front lawn, asleep."  
  
Lana raised her eyebrows. "I know that's a little strange - okay, very strange," she amended at the look on Chloe's face, "but it's not that big of a deal, is it?"  
  
"He's in his pajamas!"  
  
This was enough to get Lana out of bed.  
  
"I took a few pictures from my window," Chloe continued, holding her digital camera close and running for the door, "but I want some close ups. This will be perfect blackmail!"  
  
Lana opened the curtains again and glanced out the window. Sure enough, Clark lay curled up on the grass, wearing what looked like faded plaid pajamas.  
  
[Author's notes: I know that it would be impossible for them to tell what he was wearing (right? Remember I'm blind) from that distance, but live with it, m'kay?]  
  
She couldn't help giggling, and followed the evilly smirking Chloe out of her room and down the stairs.  
  
"It's a good thing my dad could sleep through an earth quake," Chloe commented as they passed Gabe's room, "or he'd be lecturing me big time right now."  
  
They walked down stairs and opened the front door.  
  
Once outside, they made sure to be perfectly silent. Lana remained on the porch, while Chloe crept over towards Clark.  
  
'Click!'  
  
Just that small noise was enough to make Clark stir.  
  
"Help!" Chloe mouthed to Lana. Grinning and mentally apologizing to Clark, Lana hurried over.  
  
"Shh," she murmured to Clark, kissing his lips.  
  
It worked like magic. Clark mumbled something and curled up into the fetal position, a small smile forming on his lips.  
  
Lana knew this normally wouldn't have worked quite as well, but Clark was still catching up on lost sleep.  
  
Chloe's grin widened as she took a few more pictures.  
  
Suddenly, the camera let out a loud 'beep!', as the low battery sign flashed.  
  
This, coupled with the cawing of an insistent crow, was enough to wake Clark fully.  
  
He woke up just as Chloe snapped another picture, momentarily blinding him with the flash.  
  
"Mom, what the-" he began, obviously still half asleep. But when he was able to see again and realized where he was, his eyes widened. "What the heck!?"  
  
"Morning, sunshine," Chloe said sarcastically. "Love the PJ's. Very… you."  
  
Clark was about to reply, when he caught sight of Lana, standing off to the side, silently giggling. Clark's face turned bright red, and he looked away quickly.  
  
She abruptly looked down at herself and realized she was wearing her own flowered pajamas, and she too, began blushing furiously.  
  
"Didn't you too just go out last night?" Chloe quipped between giggles. "You should have told me you were having a pajama party… I would have brought sleeping bags!"  
  
She snapped another picture of Clark, and then one of Lana before her camera beeped again, and she quickly turned it off.  
  
Clark leaped to his feet and dashed at Chloe, still blushing. "Give me that," he cried, and Chloe backed away, beginning to run.  
  
"In your dreams, Kent!"  
  
Lana joined the chase around the front yard, the 3 of them laughing as they playfully ran after each other.  
  
Lana forgot about asking Clark what exactly he was doing in their front yard, and simply focused on trying to kill Chloe.  
  
Neither of them noticed the figure hidden in the bushes, watching with his own smirk.  
  
"Laugh now, Kryptonian," he whispered, just as Clark ran passed his hiding place, "while you still can…"  
  
The hairs on the back of Clark's neck rose, and he began shivering abruptly, even though the day was warm. Waves of terror washed over him, along with the feeling he got from being around green meteor rocks.  
  
He stumbled, body still half running, away from the bushes. Suddenly, as abruptly as the feelings had begun, they stopped.  
  
Clark started running again, and as he passed the bushes, the nauseating feeling left as well. A few moments later he'd completely forgotten about the whole incident, as he gave Lana a good morning kiss while they both held Chloe in a headlock.  
  
'So innocent…' the figure thought, rising silently from it's crouched position. 'But not for long… not after I'm done with you… Soon, you'll never know the feeling of innocence ever again. After all, dead people can't feel, now can they?'  
  
Laughing silently, he leaped into the air and disappeared in a flash of green.  
  
End  
  
Author's notes:  
Yup, that's the end. Of this fic, at least. My fingers are already itching to write the sequel…  
  
Oh, and did the whole Clark showing up in his pajamas thing sound familiar to any of you? That was intentional, don't worry! I know it's obvious, but 5 brownie points if you can guess where it's from!  
  
I hope you all enjoyed this fic, and I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed.  
  
I should be starting the sequel soon. Part of me wants to take a break, and I should really work on my Dawson's Creek fic, but Pacey and Andie keep wandering away and Clark and Lana keep appearing instead. I swear, yesterday Pacey told Lana he loved her! So, expect the first part up by… hmmm… maybe Friday? Who knows… hey, gimme a break, I've been writing nearly non-stop for 2 months! Okay, so I normally do that, but whatever.  
  
Thanks again for sticking with this fic, and please review this last part and tell me if you like!  
  
Love ya lots,  
Lala 


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